


now we're patriots

by TheHarleyQueen



Category: Girl Meets World
Genre: Bisexual Riley Matthews, Depressed Riley Matthews, F/F, F/M, Gen, Implied Lucas Friar/Maya Hart, One-Sided Maya Hart/Riley Matthews, One-Sided Riley Matthews/Chai, Panic! at the Disco - Freeform, Riley Matthews has ADHD, Riley Matthews has Depression, Riley Matthews-centric, depressed riley
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-06-23 21:21:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,658
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15615273
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheHarleyQueen/pseuds/TheHarleyQueen
Summary: In which Riley Matthews establishes her own committee, buys a pair of mom jeans, and takes after her Uncle Shawn.Newest Chapter:“They made me partner,” her mom continued, reaching over to card her hands through Auggie’s hair, trying to calm him down, “Of the London office.”Riley could vaguely hear Auggie telling her dad to ask her mom how she was going to do that from New York, but she was frozen between Maya and Lucas, and her legs were giving out from underneath her. She tried to breathe and found her lungs broken. She wondered if she was having a heart attack.And Riley just broke.





	1. Riley of Arc

**Author's Note:**

> So I start preliminary exams in a week, and finals almost immediately after that, and I've been itching to write something but I had an _awful_ case of writer's block. Eventually, I was rewatching Girl Meets the Real World and thinking about Rowan Blanchard, and then I saw a tumblr post (that you can find [here](https://cherrylucaya.tumblr.com/post/171372647467/girl-meets-world-season-4)) and was inspired to write this. I hope everyone enjoys it.  
>  Whipped Cream & Other Delights,  
> TheHarleyQueen
> 
> P.S. This work has like fifty different names on the document. Each chapter was a naming option at some point in time.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE REAL WORLD

* * *

 

She had never been the type to lie, and Riley Matthews wasn’t gonna start now.  She’d been hurt at her discovery of **The Riley Matthews Committee**. She had never thought of herself as particularly weak or unable to handle things. That wasn’t to say that she wasn’t sometimes a little bit ditzy, but she had long ago decided that ditzy wasn’t the worst thing to be- she’d far rather be called ditzy than cruel or boring or _shallow_. That was the word that was sticking in her mind tonight. She didn’t believe that she was shallow, not to any extent, but the events of the past days  _had_ thrown her for a loop. Not necessarily finding out what it was like to be on “the Other Side”, but more to find out what her friends thought of her. She understood that maybe she was seen as a little more immature than the others- because she’d grown up as a good girl in a good household- but she didn’t think that her inherent nature warranted this  _idea_ that Maya had come up with. **The Riley Matthews Committee** may have, once upon a time, been a sweet gesture on behalf of her best friend and her overprotective dad, but she was fourteen now and she deserved to know _something_ about the world!

That Lucas had been part of it hurt her too- he hadn’t ever known her as a naive little girl, he didn’t have the excuse of still feeling overprotective of the little girl she’d once been! And _sure_ , He had known her as a naive _slightly taller_ girl, but that still didn’t give him the right to censor what she knew!

 

But, truly, it wasn’t Maya or her dad or Lucas that she was _most_ mad at. No, that _special_ position was reserved for one _Farkle Minkus_.

Farkle was all about pursuing the unknown. Farkle was the one who had explained to her why the only way to understand things was to hold them in front of a microscope. He’d always told her to push herself, had worked _with_ her after the Science Class Debacle (that _definitely deserved capital letters_ ). He’d started bringing her over after school and explaining things like celestial coordinates and the Doppler shift and spectroscopic parallax. _He_ was the one encouraging her to go out and learn more and change the world, more than any of them, and he’d set her on this track with safe search on. It broke her heart more than she really knew how to explain, because _Farkle_ , of all her friends and family, was supposed to be the one who always wanted her to get better, instead of just wanting better for her.

 

She wondered how many slip ups she’d made over the years that people had laughed at her for behind her back. As a general rule, she believed she handled her mistakes with a certain gracefulness (that maybe couldn’t be found in her actions, but _so what?_ ). But how could that be the truth if she didn’t know she was making them. She thought back over the last year alone, and she found plenty of incidents that left her cheeks burning a hideous bright red. Overhearing a conversation between Maya and Farkle about something called _Black Lives Matter_ and having it immediately shut down when she walked in to join them. The thing with the _fish_. Letting Maya go out to that party- who _knows_ what could have happened to them there, and Riley had only just scratched the surface of everything she needed to know.

 

And so, after the debate, after Zay had forgiven her ( _and she hadn’t let the public apology and the song be her only apology._ Maybe that was what was expected of her, but she expected more of herself. She’d sat down with Zay, after school, _privately_ , and talked through it with him. Zay was actually really funny, and he called her ‘sugar’ and ‘gumdrop’ and ‘cotton candy face’, which she thought was hilarious) she had done something she hadn’t done (to her mother's dismay) since Maya crawled in through her window. She locked it.

 

She would forgive Maya and Farkle, eventually. She wasn’t mean, and she knew her best friends had only had her best interests at heart. She’d already forgiven Lucas and her father, and her best friends meant so much more to her than she could put into words, so _of course_ , she’d forgive them. But this weekend would be for her. Tonight, she’d take for herself, before the next drama started (and one would). Because that was what she needed.

 

Her mother called her down for dinner before she could start trawling through the depths of the internet, though. Maybe for the best. Her stomach was growling like nobody’s business, and she didn’t think she was strong enough to be in her room when Maya came down to say goodnight only to find the windows locked. Because if that happened- well, Riley knew she’d unlock the windows, and lie and say that she’d done it unthinkingly, and she’d let the whole **Riley Matthews Committee** thing go, and _she didn’t want to do that_ . As she walked down the staircase she trailed her hand over the frames on the wall- newspaper articles from some of her mom’s biggest court cases. There were several from the beginning of her career that were just divorces, but as the dates grew more recent, Riley realised what kind of person her mother was. _Protection Orders Against Domestic Violence_ and _Termination of Parental Rights and Adoptions_ were her most common cases. Her mom was the one removing the kids from abusive households and making sure the women were kept safe, and here was Riley, _stealing a_ _cookie_ and _smiling at_ _people_ and thinking she was changing the world.

 

“Honey?” Her mother startled her from her thoughts, “Are you feeling okay? Normally you’re chowing down by now.”

 

Her mom smiled at her and Riley felt her heart melt. Topanga Matthews was truly one of a kind. Both her parents were, actually, she thought, catching a glimpse of her dad, tucking a napkin into Auggie’s shirt so it wouldn’t get stained- “...is Maya coming over?”

Riley hadn’t followed her mother’s train of thought, but the question brought her back to a screeching halt. She loved her parents so much, she really did, but she was also _angry_. And it was her mom who had told her that she always had the right to be angry, wasn’t it? They’d kept stuff from her, important stuff, stuff about the world that she should _know_. Both of them had, even if her mom wasn’t on **The Riley Matthews Committee**. So Riley was angry, but she choked it down because her mom was smiling at her and dishing up spaghetti, and her dad was talking about the debate at school today (sometimes, to herself, she wished that she didn’t have to rehash the entire day’s events at home during dinner. Sometimes she wanted her life to be _just_ her life, not hers _and her dad’s_. But she’d never say that because she was _Riley Matthews_ with the good financial status and the good home life and what more could she ask for).

So Riley spouted off some excuse about how Maya was at the diner tonight, that she and her mother were trying to make up for the time they missed and how Maya had promised to bring her the leftover tuna melt (she tried to ignore how her mom sent her that look that meant _‘don’t take it because Maya has less money than us and can’t afford to give up food’_ ). And so that was how the night went.

 

It was like any other family dinner, Riley thought, except for the fact that she could feel her laptop burning her from nearly a floor away, her startup tabs (Google Drive and Youtube) open next to _current affairs_. And the fact that she couldn’t draw her mind from Maya, who’d probably figured out what Riley was doing by now, and had since crawled back to her own apartment, heartbroken. And that image was the one that left her dawdling downstairs long after she would normally have retreated to her bedroom. She stayed for two whole episodes of _Impossible!_ even though Auggie knew more of the answers than she did and watching the game show with her family always made her feel more insecure. She even stayed until her parents broke out the port, and then still longer, talking with them until they chased her off to her bedroom, citing a needing a break from the drama.

It wasn’t that Riley didn’t want to learn more about the world without **The Riley Committee** sponsored safe search, because she did, more than anything. But she wasn’t _stupid_ (no matter what the people in her class believed). She knew that doing this would change the dynamics of her friendships forever, and even though they were growing up, and she knew the dynamics of her friendships would change a million times more before she was done with high school, she _liked_ this phase.

 

But still, this was something she ~~had to~~ _wanted to_ do for herself. So she put on her pyjamas and shut off the lights and threw the knitted blanket her Gramma Rhiannon had knitted for her and she opened her laptop. _Paris Accords to go Through_ said the first article. _T_ _he EU Rebuffs Greece’s Demand for Austerity Relief_ said the next.   _R efugee Crisis in Europe Growing Worse- Why Won’t America Help?_   _Racial Profiling in the US Hits All-Time High_ _Donald Trump to Run for President in 2016 with Republican Party_ So Riley did the only thing she was still sure she knew- she started to read.

> _The real estate mogul and TV reality star launched his presidential campaign Tuesday, ending more than two decades of persistent flirtation with the idea of running for the Oval Office._
> 
> _"So, ladies and gentlemen, I am officially running for president of the United States, and we are going to make our country great again," Trump told the crowd in a lengthy and meandering 45-minute speech that hit on his signature issues like currency manipulation from China and job creation, while also taking shots at the president and his competitors on the Republican side._
> 
> _"Sadly the American dream is dead," Trump said at the end of his speech. "But if I get elected president I will bring it back bigger and better and stronger than ever before."_

 

Riley hadn’t ever really liked what she heard about Donald Trump, and this just proved her point. She read on, booking marking sites and exploring links. She even developed a tumblr (@daughterofhistory  ) and hit ‘follow’ on nearly a hundred blogs about activism and feminism and _Black Lives Matter_.

 

When the light broke through the bay window curtains, she squinted and rolled out of bed. It was a Saturday, and she had work to do. Downstairs her mom was already making pancakes, and her dad had gone to see Uncle Shawn. She plopped down next to Auggie and continued reading on her tablet ( _she’d also started a subscription to the_ **_New York Times_ ** _and_ **_Mary Review_ ** ).

All through breakfast, she spoke to no one. She continued her reading spree until she felt like she had run out of resources. And then she turned to historical articles, to summaries of the Assault Weapons Ban and the Watts riots and Stonewall. She ate without speaking, her reading monopolising her time.

 

Eventually, once Auggie had finished his breakfast (and even washed his own dishes!) and she’d cleaned up (half-heartedly, still reading about Tamir Rice and Malala) she turned to her mother, eyes wide and tablet nearly flat.

 

_“Mom, can we go out?”_


	2. Insecure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> CHANGE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! I must say, I haven't felt this inspired to write in a while. Obviously, Girl Meets World just brings it out in me. I hope you enjoy the continuation of this fic. It's going to be a long one, I can promise you that. If you enjoyed it and wanted to let me know, please comment <3 I know how much effort it feels like to write a comment, so I really treasure each and every one (I write out my favourites and keep them in my phone case- or I did. I recently dropped my phone in the toilet)  
> Whipped Cream & Other Delights,  
> TheHarleyQueen

When Riley left the house, she was wearing one of the mom’s old outfits from the 90s- one of the few she had left that she broke out whenever she, dad and Uncle Shawn were setting out on some sort of adventure. She and her mom had sat and talked over The Plan for what felt like _forever_ (really, it was more like an hour). Her mom _hadn’t believed_ when Riley came to speak to her with three garbage bags full of clothes in her hands.

 

But Riley _did_ know some things (contrary to popular opinion, apparently). And one of those things was most definitely, without a doubt, clothes. She knew that the Maya Hart New Winter Coat Fund™ wasn’t made because her best friend was selfish or mean or whatever everyone else said, because Maya Hart’s Old Winter Coat™ was fraying around the bottom and the sleeves only came midway down her forearm. She also knew that she wore some of the most expensive clothes in their friend group. Most of Maya’s clothes were second hand, with the exception of a few choice pieces that were shared between her and her mom. She knew Farkle wore clothes costing between 20 and 2000 dollars. She knew Zay had more money than Lucas because even though Zay’s clothes also looked like they were from _back home in Texas_ , they didn’t have the small patches sewn up, never had the mark of something that had been mended, unlike Lucas’s. She knew Smackle had more money than her clothes let on (because when she wore jewelry, it was _quality_ stuff, unlike Riley’s, which were mostly made to _look_ quality).

Because Riley’s _thing_ had always been clothes. When it was just the three of them, Maya was the artist and Farkle was the genius and Riley was the one who dressed them when they went to go get their awards on stage. Now that it was the six of them and they were older, Maya was the artist and the beauty, and Farkle was the genius and the philanthropist, Lucas was the athlete and the handsome, Zay the clown and dancer, Smackle the brilliant and the lover. And Riley was still just Riley, the goofball who dressed everyone else up.

 

So no matter what her mom thought, this plan had actually been a long time coming, because every time Riley went out with her friends, she’d look down at her clothes and feel guilty, because she wasn’t Farkle who was giving away twice what he wore (which made it okay to wear clothes that cost more than some people’s rent). She was just Riley, who spent her allowance on clothes she didn’t need because they looked pretty, and that made her feel _terrible_ . So this plan that she’d detailed to her mom, the one where she sold all her clothes, bought a new wardrobe back that was cheaper than the one she’d auctioned off, and gave the rest to charity, wasn’t the spur-of-the-moment _Riley_ plan her mom thought it was.

 

And _that_ was how Riley ended up leaving the house in an old outfit of her mom’s, with _five_ black bags (she’d actually been deeper through her closet and found two more bags worth of clothes that she hadn’t worn in years) on the way to Demolition.

Since the “I’d like to sell all of my clothes please!” incident, she and her mom had actually created a pretty good working relationship with Aubrey (they came by Demolition often, helped to wash, fold and price the second-hand clothes while Mom gave Aubrey some basic lessons in law). So when Riley stepped into Demolition to sell all of her clothes a second time, she actually _sat down_ with Aubrey and they negotiated until they came to a fair price (as mentioned earlier, one of the two things Riley had always known without a doubt was the value of clothes; the other was the Pluto _was_ a planet) while her mom manned the register. It was a long process- Riley knew that she’d be giving a lot of money away in this plan (most of it her own) but she did need to make enough money off her clothes to go and buy some new stuff ( _she most certainly_ **_wasn’t_ ** _thinking, on any level, about how giving away_ **_clothes_ ** _still wasn’t enough to make up for all the mistakes she’d made over the years, the times when she hadn’t known any better that haunted her_ ).

 

It was past midday when she and her mom left Demolition with more money than Riley had ever had at one time in her mom’s purse. Then it was time for the _fun_ ( _Riley_ **_wasn’t_ ** _thinking about how this shouldn’t be fun because she was_ **_atoning_ ** _._ **_She wasn’t_ ** ).

 

Except.

So Riley did the only thing she could.

* * *

 

She and her mom spent the entire afternoon working through thrift stores. None of the outfits she bought screamed _Riley_ at her, but she didn’t really want to be _Riley_ anymore. Because Riley was “Smiley Riley” was “Ditzy Riley” was “Maya’s Best Friend Riley”, not “Riley Matthews: Her Own Person”. She wanted to be like everyone else, not the girl who had **The Riley Matthews Committee** because she was too naive to know about the world. And she was having fun, with her mom, who she saw less and less these days ( _she knew what their apartment cost, knew that they lived comfortably because of the time her mom put into her work_ ). So Riley worked through the thrift stores with her mom, making sure that the clothes she bought left enough money for her to be able to donate a sizable sum at the end ( _because she didn’t want her mom to tell her dad tonight that she’d used something important as an excuse to get a new wardrobe. She could already hear the words flying around in her head and she_ **_knew_ ** _her mom hadn't had a chance to say them_ ).

 

It was 4:26 pm exactly when she found the jeans (she knew because her mom had said that they were going to the shelter at half-past-four, and Riley still needed one more pair of pants). They had rips in them, and not the artistic type. They looked as if they’d been made in the eighties, but Riley _knew_ these jeans. She’d seen the girls with the signs saying “a woman’s place is in the revolution” in jeans like these. These were the jeans that would help her remember what she wanted to be. And they were on _sale_ ( _they’d been lying in the store for nearly ten years, but the owner wasn’t going to tell Riley that. They were just happy to be rid of them_ ). So Riley hurried over to the counter to pay, and her mom looked at her through the corner of her eye ( _“I can’t believe Riley wants to look like she’s homeless” she could hear her mom’s voice, but_ **_her mom wasn’t like that_ ** ) but said nothing. And the owner smiled so wide that Riley decided that it didn’t _matter_ if no one else liked the jeans, because _she_ did, and she’d made someone else happy by buying them, and that was two people happier than before, so they couldn’t be terrible.

 

On their way home, Riley and her mom stopped by Help USA to donate the money that was leftover from selling Riley’s closet ( _the ballpark figure was $1000. Riley tried not to cringe when she thought about how_ **_selfish_ ** _she’d been_ ). And when they handed the sum over, Riley swore she’d come back, that she’d offer to help out in any way she could, because _this_ what life was about ( _and she still had to_ **_atone_ ** ). Knowing that she was, for once, _helping_ someone made her feel like it didn’t matter what she’d said and done before because _this_ was what she was supposed to be doing.

 

When they arrived back home, Riley kissed her mom on the cheek and thanked her softly, before heading up to her room to put away the new clothes.  

Upstairs, she placed all the new clothes on her bed and threw open her closet. Steadily, she started hanging up all of her new clothes, humming under her breath. As she got into the song and the motions, she let her thoughts drift from her actions and into the future. Into school on Monday and **The Riley Matthews Committee** and the patriarchy. She was so in her head that she didn’t notice him slipping in through the window.

 

“Good afternoon, Riley,” came Farkle’s voice, from less than an inch behind her. She jumped, the top she was hanging flying across the room. But she smiled at him and hugged him close because she was still mad about **The Riley Committee** but they could talk about that. What they _didn’t_ need to talk about was that they were still friends. That they always would be.

 

“I see you went shopping,” he smiled, walking across the room to pick up the shirt and grabbing the hanger from her, moving to help her with her task. This was what she loved about Farkle; they were always so in sync. He was really a great person ( _unlike you_ ). She smiled and picked up the next thing on the bed- a pair of leggings.

 

“Yeah. Mom and I wanted to spend some time together,” she paused, allowing him to take the hanger from her while she went and collected new clothes to hang, “...Farkle?” She began, before thinking better of it. But there was a chance that he was truly a robot because he seemed to notice that something was off, “Yeah, Riles?” Everyone called her Riles, but she liked it best when Farkle (and Maya) did it. After all, he was the first one who’d ever done it- “ _doyoueverfeelbadthatwehavemoremoneythanourfriends?_ ” She asked in one rushed breath. But thankfully, he didn’t make her repeat it ( _he’s good like that_ ). Rather, he sat down, right where he was, and patted the floor next to him, motioning for her to join him. When she did, he started to braid her hair ( _it was something she’d taught him a long time ago. Now, whenever he was upset or thinking_ **_very_ ** _hard, he braided her hair. It was a tradition_ ).

 

After a lengthy silence, he spoke, “sometimes. He took a hairband from around her wrist and tied the simple braid together, before looking her in the eyes. Riley squirmed where she was sitting, fiddling with the end of the braid.

 

“I know it’s not something I did wrong- or something they did wrong- to mean that I have more money than them. But when I see a discoloured patch on Lucas’s jeans that mean that they’ve had to be mended _again_ , or when I “donate” to Maya’s new winter coat fund… yeah, I feel bad. And I want to do more for them, but I know they wouldn’t want me to. So I don’t say anything,” he smiled softly at her, even as she undid and redid his braid (her own nervous habit), “why?”

 

But Riley couldn’t answer that. She didn’t even _know_ why she was feeling so guilty about it today. She’d wanted to do one thing; donate to Help USA. She’d done that, but she didn’t feel any better. She _still_ had more than Maya, more that _she didn’t deserve_. So she changed the subject.

 

“I was really mad at you about the Riley Committee thing.”

 

Farkle blinked in confusion, before his face softened and he let her divert the topic. They needed to talk about this anyway, “Yeah, I know.”

 

But she pushed herself up to pace around her room, needing to work her frustration out, “It’s embarrassing, Farkle! There’s important stuff that I didn’t know about! You said you’d always want me to get better, but keeping me from the world isn’t doing that! I’m not a little girl, and it _hurt_ that you thought that of me!” He didn’t respond, sensing that there was more to be said on her part, before they could reasonably talk about it.

 

“Farkle, do you have _any clue_ what it was like to suddenly learn that your friends think that you can’t handle anything? That you’re a- a _child_ that needs to be protected? I understand my dad keeping stuff from me, okay. He’s always been overprotective. I even understand _Maya_ doing it- I’m her good influence, or something, and maybe she was scared that I wouldn’t want to be the good influence if I knew what the world was like- and maybe that’s true! But _you_ , of all people, Farkle, should know that I want to make my own decisions. And you took that away from me! _How could you?_ ” She broke off when her throat blocked up with tears. _She wasn’t going to cry about this. She wasn’t that_ **_weak_ **.

 

But when Farkle stood up and pulled her against him in a sturdy hug, she couldn’t stop herself. She let out a choked sob.

 

“I’ve been thinking about everything,” he whispered to her, “and you’re right. I did the wrong thing. I had tons of chances to tell you and I _didn’t_ . And that was wrong. But I can’t undo it. Can you forgive me?” And she pulled back and smiled at him softly, because _of course she could_ . He was _Farkle_. She’d forgive him for anything.

 

They exchanged a smile and went back to hanging up Riley’s new clothes, silently, side by side.

 

When she felt comfortable in her routine, she began talking again, softly. He knew not to interrupt her, “I sold all my old clothes today. I bought this stuff from thrift stores and second-hand shops. I don’t want to be the girl whose most important part of her is the way she dresses, anymore. I gave the rest of the money away. I felt guilty about having expensive clothes I didn’t need when people are out there starving.”

Farkle didn’t say anything ( _what would he say, really? It’s true. You should feel guilty_ ) he just smiled at her and began to hum.

 

_Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here_

_Here comes the sun_

 

When they were done, Farkle placed a soft kiss against her forehead and whispered in her ear- “you will always be more than how you dress, Riles. I love you.”

 

{ _That moment would change their world. They didn’t know it yet, though._ }

 

He crawled out through the window (no one really knew how much time she and Farkle spent together. Between him climbing through her window and her going over for lessons in astronomy, they had grown closer than most knew). She smiled after him.

 

Not a minute later, Maya climbed through the same window, and began her speech about what Riley would _not_ do tomorrow. _She never noticed that Riley’s entire life had changed last night. But then again, Riley was really good at hiding things_.

 

* * *

 

For example, when something felt wrong the next morning, and she couldn’t find Barry the Bear, she hid it.

 

Riley was good at hiding things.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bonus:  
> 


	3. (Fuck) Manifest Destiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE GREAT LADY OF NEW YORK

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I'm writing two tests and an exam this week, but I'm doing this instead of studying. What can you do?  
> If you enjoy this, please consider commenting, even if it's one word.  
> Whipped Cream & Other Delights,  
> TheHarleyQueen

_THE GREAT LADY OF NEW YORK_ read the chalkboard. Of course; it was Culture Week, so _of course_ , her dad would deviate from the syllabus. She loved him to pieces, but sometimes she wondered if he actually had a teaching plan other than Belgium, 1831. And Riley was pretty certain she already knew _exactly_ how this Culture Week was going to go. This wasn’t her first rodeo.

When she was four, her nursery school teacher had told them to go find out where their family came from, and dress up in that style for the concert (where they, of course, performed the iconic _This Land is Your Land_ ). Riley had stood on the stage in her favourite dress, but had still looked out-of-place next to the bright huipil of the girl next to her or the IsiNene and iBheshu of the boy behind her. Riley knew that she wasn’t the Great Lady of anywhere. She was from New York, and then Philadelphia, and San Francisco, and so on. The United States of America seemed to be all the Matthews/Lawrences had ever known.

 

But still, Riley put on a smile, as her dad reminded her that _everyone had a story_ , even though, whenever she asked, their story was cream cheese and the Liberty Bell. She had long ago googled where her parents’ last names came from, and that only ever led to the vague answer of _Europe_. So, yes, she had a pretty good idea of how Culture Week went down in her family. She wouldn’t bother asking again. Rather, she’d listen quietly as Maya bumbled her way through the history of the statue of liberty and Nigel spoke about his grandmother’s history. She’d play along with her dad so that he could introduce his assignment.

Through the rest of the school day, she couldn’t keep her mind from Culture Week. Booths were steadily being set up through the halls, and she daydreamed through English and Maths, turning her mind to the more difficult problem of making her presentation good enough to get a reasonable grade, even though her Matthews and Lawrence heritage was nothing to be excited over.

 

Even though she spent the entire day thinking (with the exception of science. She’d learnt that she couldn’t let her attention drift for even a moment in Science, or her grade would most certainly make a drop from an A to an A-. _You made a big deal about being good enough in this subject, now you have to_ **_prove_ ** _it_ ), but it was only in her last class of the day that an actual plan started to form. They were supposed to be learning to draw human figures ( _but Maya had already deviated into a human figure curled up in the fetal position, and the tin of purple paint with the letters RILEY MATTHEWS stamped on had been left on her desk_ ). But Riley wasn’t in a purple cat mood, and her human figure would never be completed. Rather, her shoulder blade became a clasp and her hipbone became the first of the stripes, and before she knew it, she was lost in a different world, Hallelujah blaring through her headphones, adjusting proportions and colours until it was _perfect_ ( _she was so in her head that she didn’t even notice when Mr Jackson briefly glanced over her work, expecting to see another purple cat, only to be brought to a halt by the piece on Riley’s sketch pad. She didn’t notice when he stood behind her for nearly two minutes, the kind of time he usually only spent on students like Maya and Lucas, who would probably take art as a full-time subject next year_ ). And when the bell rang, she stuffed her pencils into her bag and nearly ran out the door, only for Mr Jackson to stop her and ask her to remain behind. She did so ( _she’d never disobey a teacher_ ) thoughts frantically racing about how to explain away that she hadn’t done the assignment, but not even to paint a purple cat. She didn’t need to, though.

 

“Can I see that dress again, Ms Matthews?” he asked her, voice betraying nothing. She silently pulled the sketch pad from her bag and showed it to him. It was the only drawing inside, even though they’d done six or seven sketch pieces in class already. Mr Jackson said nothing about that, simply taking a pencil from his desk and adjusting a few of the measurements and notes Riley had made about the material that would be required to make the dress. He handed the pad back to her and she put it away before he spoke again.

 

“Ms Matthews, I don’t normally do this kind of thing. I believe that to be an artist, one should know all aspects of art, even if you don’t use any of them. But you have a real talent in a difficult field of art. So I’ll make you a deal.” He met her eyes and smiled, “If you can make that dress, as it is on the paper, I’ll mark you on the dress instead of the task you were _supposed_ to do.”

 

He clearly wasn’t mad about that fact that she hadn’t done what she was supposed to, and for a moment, Riley understood why Maya and Lucas both enjoyed art. When you were told you’d done something _good_ , and _original_ , it felt amazing. When she was in middle school, she’d always tried to garner that praise in art. When that hadn’t worked, she’d decided to stick with the purple cats anyway, hoping to at least be commended for her dedication. When that, too, hadn’t worked, she’d felt it was too late to return to what everyone else did in art. If she did, she was sure there would be an intervention in history class, and she hadn’t wanted to sit through another of those. So purple cats it was.

But now, after being told that something she did in art _meant_ something, Riley thought that she might actually enjoy art as a subject. She smiled at Mr Jackson and nodded before leaving the classroom, without a word. She didn’t think that there was anything to be said.

 

It was only when she was outside that she remembered the _other_ reason she didn’t like art class. Because, even though she was with Lucas (and she was happy. _She was!_ ) and Maya and Josh were in it for the long game, and Maya and Zay were in it for the short game ( _and hadn’t_ **_that_ ** _been an interesting development on Sunday_ ), art class was like the fireside for Maya and Lucas. Where they _b_ _onded_. Where she felt like Lucas chose wrong.

 

“What are we talking about?” she asked as she joined the conversation. Lucas and Maya immediately went silent, stifling giggles ( _they were talking about_ **_you_** _. You’re pathetic_ ).

 

“Nothing, Riles. Just joking around,” but again, she shot Lucas one of their Art-Class-Fireplace Looks and Riley thought she’d never felt more alone, even surrounded by people.

 

“Anyhow. Are we going to Topanga’s? As good a place as any to do research, right?” Maya asked, smiling at her. Riley smiled back at her best friend ( _she still hasn’t brought up the news clothes. And why should she? It’s not her problem_ ), “I’ll meet you there, Peaches. I’ve got something to do first.”

 

Maya blinked at her in surprise, but then smiled and hooked her arm into Lucas’s. He himself ( _who’s said nothing to you yet_ ) pressed a chaste kiss to her lips before walking with Maya, tipping an imaginary cowboy hat and calling her _ma’am_. Riley smiled sadly after them ( _can’t blame them for not being interested in you. Just look at your history. You’re not interesting_ ) before walking a couple of paces behind them to the school doors ( _i_ _t doesn’t matter that you’re all going in the same direction. You don’t_ **_have_ ** _to walk together. You’re_ **_not_ ** _a super-possessive girlfriend who’s jealous when her boyfriend talks to his friends_ ).

 

* * *

 

Riley did _not_ know where to find material. She probably should have been done _ages_ ago. School had ended nearly two hours ago, now, and all she had found was material printed with an American flag. She needed actual material, needed thread, needed a clasp. And she was _stuck_. She didn’t know why she’d ever thought this was a good idea- _she didn’t even know_ ** _how_** _to sew!_ _She was going to fail tomorrow and look stupid on Friday and Mr Jackson would be disappointed in her and she didn’t even have a sewing machine and she couldn’t even ask her parents to help because neither her mom or dad knew how to sew, because-_ well, there was an idea.

 

She pulled out her phone and dialled the only person who could _possibly_ help her right now.

 

_“Hello? Who is this?”_

 

“Hi, Uncle Shawn. It’s Riley,” (it didn’t sting that he didn’t have her number, even though he had Maya’s. _It didn’t_ ).

 

“Hey, baby-Cory! What can I help you with today?”

 

“Mom and dad say you know how to sew, and I need help.”

 

“You need help sewing something?”

 

“No, I need to learn how to sew before tomorrow. I have to make a dress.”

 

On the other end of the line, Shawn Hunter blinked in surprise. Well, no one ever said that the child of Cory and Topanga would be a reasonable, easy-going child.

 

“Uh, well, you can come over, I guess? We’ll have a lot of work to do.”

 

“But I don’t have the material yet!” Riley cried into the phone, biting at her fingernails.

 

“I think we’ll have to do a lot of work before you’re ready to make a dress, kiddo. Does it _have_ to be done by tomorrow?”

 

Riley bit her lip, a piece of nail between her teeth, “I could probably get dad to push my presentation back to Friday,” she murmured timidly.

 

“Perfect! You know where I live. See you in-”

 

“Twenty minutes.”

 

“See you in twenty minutes, baby Cory!”

 

Riley hung up the phone and hurried over to the cash register to pay for the flag material. She’d need it eventually, she knew. Made sense to just buy it now.

 

In her hurry, she completely forgot that she’d agreed to meet at Topanga’s.

 

* * *

 

It was past ten when the door to Maya’s apartment opened. Well, she was here for Shawn, but in her head, it would always be Maya’s apartment (even though she knew that they were looking to move). She and Uncle Shawn had been buried in the technicalities of sewing for hours.

She’d already called her parents to assure them she was fine, just spending the night at Maya’s. Uncle Shawn had offered her grilled cheese for dinner and she’d accepted. Over dinner, he’d told her why he knew how to sew. She’d known he grew up poor, but hearing it from him, about the trailer park and needing to mend all his own clothes because he didn’t have a parent who could do it for him, made her appreciate him all over again. He was her Uncle Shawn, and no matter how awkward they’d once been together, they loved each other.

 

It was after ten, past Maya’s curfew, and he was trying not to show it, but Uncle Shawn had been glancing at the clock every few minutes, worried about his pseudo-step-daughter. But when the key clicked in the lock and Maya came in, she was happy and light. She spoke to someone in the hall, softly, and closed the door behind her _on a good note_.

 

“Oh, hey Riles! We missed you at Topanga’s. Your mom said you were busy, though, so we didn’t want to go bother you,” she frowned, leaving small lines between her brows, “were you waiting for me?” And Riley couldn’t say anything, because she’d placed a name with the voice from the hall. _Lucas had walked Maya home_ ( _but that meant nothing, right? The triangle was over_ ). But she didn’t have to answer, because, at that same moment, Katy Hunter brushed through the door behind her daughter, taking up the room with her busy personality ( _Riley loved Maya’s mom. She was always so happy_ ). Riley just resumed her lesson on seam allowances. She stayed up with her Uncle Shawn the whole night, long after her best friend had gone to bed (after pillaging the kitchen for potatoes. Riley wasn’t quite sure what _that_ was about).

It was nearing six am when Uncle Shawn stood up and pulled her up by the shoulders.

 

“Now, my young Padawan,” he began, smiling proudly, “go out into the world. Sew everything you can. Just don’t sew your fingers together.” They shared a smile and a yawn, and Riley knew it would be another school day without any sleep ( _but it was worth it, and she’d been surviving off less and less sleep recently. It was taking longer to fall asleep, her thoughts plagued by Real World Problems_ ).

 

Riley left Maya’s house for the subway at seven. She borrowed a set of Maya’s clothes and ate a slice of toast at the Hunter-Hart household, and promised her Uncle Shawn she’d be back after school to steal the sewing machine. She walked next to her best friend, and they spoke about Maya’s presentation plan, how she was going to hand out potatoes and show off Irish soap (Riley didn’t have the heart to point out that bagpipes were Scottish. For all she knew, Maya had done it on purpose). They also stopped at a convenience store on the way to school and Riley bought some cheese ( _throwing cheese at people would definitely convince her dad that they all needed to redo the project_ ).

 

Riley was _great_ at being the old Riley, the pre-knowledge of **The Riley Committee** Riley. But as she said the words “Riley McCheese”, she saw how Farkle’s face fell, and knew that she’d need to talk to her lab partner, her best friend, privately.

It was a lot of work to corner him though. Eventually, while she was taking notes in science, she scribbled a note ( _between the definition of a Brønsted-Lowry acid_ ), asking him to join her on her hunt for material after school. Farkle could never say no to her.

 

And that was how she’d found herself comparing linings in a fabric store while Farkle Minkus braided her hair. What he’d found the previous day must have been _beyond_ upsetting for him, because he’d braided her hair three times already, starting with a french and then a dutch and then a fishtail. Now he was working on a lattice braid while consulting Riley on colours. She let him. He’d talk when he was ready.

 

She was right about that. As he walked her to Maya’s apartment, her hair in one of the most complicated braids she’d ever seen, he quietly whispered to her about the Danish Minkus's, ( _Minki, she could hear Maya saying_ ) and how he was pretty sure they were Jewish. He told her what little he knew about his great-grandfather, who’d left Denmark to escape the Nazis ( _as best he could tell_ ). And even as Riley’s heart broke listening to him ( _he sounded so lost. Like he didn’t know who he was anymore. She supposed that that was true. In another life, Farkle may have been Jewish_ ), her resolve strengthened to make this dress. Because her presentation would be about Farkle’s great-grandfather, and Nigel’s grandmother, and Zay’s ancestors ( _she didn’t know what he’d find, yet, but she was sure it was nothing good_ ).

She spent the whole night finishing the dress. Farkle sat next to her, researching. And She’d missed another night at Topanga’s, missed possible anecdotes and missed Lucas and Maya, but she needed to do this. All her life, when heritage days came around, she was just Riley Matthews of America. This time, she’d be more. This time, she’d be the Great Lady of New York.

 

Uncle Shawn helped her with the dress too. She did the big pieces, but he attached the cape, he stitched the fleur-de-lis onto the shoulder ( _the Statue of Liberty is French, after all_ ).

And maybe Maya was confused to walk into her house and see her two best friends sitting side by side, but she didn’t comment, didn’t pry. There was something about this Culture Week that had changed them, and she didn’t know how to reach them. Rather, she retreated to her room ( _and Riley_ **_didn’t_ ** _think about how she wasn’t good enough company for Maya. Rather, she smiled and kissed Farkle on the nose when he pointed out a misdone stitch and texted Zay about Ghana_ ) while Riley and Farkle finished their presentations for the next day. Something the two of them, who’d thought that they had no story, only to realise their stories were some of the greatest, needed to do together.

 

* * *

 

The next day, the five of them walked through the Culture Fair, walking between the Cambodian and Irish and Ghanan and Flemish booths (Lucas had tracked his last name back to the people of Flanders), and Riley knew she’d chosen the right way to present her topic ( _there was no America booth_ ), because she saw how sad Farkle was to have missed his heritage. So when the speaker told her to “ _get outta here!”_ Riley gave Farkle a tight hug and slipped away from her friends to get dressed. History was her last class today. But she’d be taking the dress in to Mr Jackson after school.

 

She missed Maya’s presentation ( _you’re a terrible friend_ ) but this was important to her, and she couldn’t let it go, not for anyone. And when her dad called her name up, she tentatively entered the classroom, her train behind her, her stomach fluttering, her dress tight (“ _go big or go home, baby Cory,” Uncle Shawn had said when she and Farkle left last night_ ). The class stared, and she was afraid she’d lost her voice, but then Farkle smiled at her and she felt like she was on top of the world. Her best friends believed in her, how could she not be?

 

“Almost everyone in the USA today is an immigrant. We all came from somewhere,” she began. She locked eyes with Farkle. He’d helped her research the history of the country. He believed in her idea, “my ancestors took the land from the people it belonged to and killed them. There is only 10% of the Native American population left. And then my ancestors stayed here for so long that they can’t really be considered anything other than American.”  Between sentences, she took deep breaths. _This is a good idea,_ she told herself (even as she could feel the anxiety that came with a bad grade crawling up inside her) _this is a_ **_real_ ** _story_.

“My ancestors’ stories aren’t great ones. They’re cruel. But my story, today, is that I am American. I am made of all of the people in all of the colonies and all of the states,” she gestured to her dress, “because that’s what the United States comes down to. People change people. The secret of life.” She smiled at her dad, but couldn’t read his face. She swallowed and continued, “The Matthews and Lawrence families originate from somewhere in Europe, but they’re _American_. That’s my great story. That a million tiny things, and millions of people, had to influence everyone’s lives to bring me to this point. America doesn’t have a booth in Cultural Week because we’re every culture.”

 

She smiled at the class, holding eye contact with Nigel and Zay and Farkle (and she tried to make eye contact with Lucas, but he wasn’t looking at her), “Once upon a time, Riley Matthews lived in New York City. Because of that, she lived everywhere.”

 

She took her seat, and her dad looked up from his marking sheet, “Thanks, Riley.” Then he spoke more directly to the class, “Go on. Get outta here.”

And as her classmates walked past her, they brushed her dress and smiled at her, and Riley thought she’d made a real difference.

 

And eventually, she left too, to admire the portrait that had given the idea in the first place. Farkle stood behind her, and Zay, Lucas, and Maya behind them. And when the other three questioned his history, she took his hand and held it tight as he told the story of his great-grandfather, his eyes fixed on a spot above all their heads. And when the final bell rang, Riley pulled him into a tight hug.

 

* * *

 

It was only that night when she discovered why Lucas wouldn’t make eye contact with her during her presentation. She’d called him to wish him good night when he brought it up.

 

“Actually, Riles, can we talk about your presentation today?”

 

“Sure,” she responded, making herself more comfortable, “but I do have to go to bed soon. I’ve had, like, six hours of sleep in the last two days”. To prove her point, she stifled a yawn.

 

“Yeah, I’ll be quick. Look, it made me look really bad when you brought that stuff up, okay?”

 

Except it wasn’t okay, because she didn’t even understand what he was talking about. But when she voiced as much, he just continued, “Yeah. Look, my ancestors were _those_ guys, okay. I’m a white guy from Texas. My ancestors had slaves. They were part of the Confederacy. All of it. And bringing all that bad blood up… I felt like everyone was looking at me weirdly, okay. It’s like… I get you wanted to establish yourself, and whatever, but like, I wish you’d asked if it was okay with me first, you know?”

 

And Riley had so much she wanted to say. _It’s my history too,_ Lucas. She wanted to say _we can’t run from the past_. _It’s weirder that you’re running from it than that it happened_. But it wasn’t her place. Maybe he did feel uncomfortable. So instead, she said, “No one thinks that of you. You’re Mr Perfect in everyone’s eyes. And I know that’s not always ideal, but I promise that everyone knows you’re nothing like the people I was talking about.”

Lucas said nothing, though, and she didn’t know what more to do. So she wished him good night and hung up.

 

_Sleep wouldn’t find her that night, though. Rather, she would lie in bed for a couple of hours before turning on her laptop and writing a blog post about her day. She fell asleep around three in the morning, laptop on her stomach._

 

_Sleepless nights were becoming more and more frequent for Riley Matthews._


	4. Previews of Coming Attractions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> THE SAGA COMMITTEE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am completely overwhelmed by the support this story is getting! I'm so glad all of you enjoy it. I'm really trying hard to make the characters true to life instead of two dimensional (all of them, even Lucas and Maya and Smackle) so I try and put a lot of time into each chapter. 
> 
> Also, there's a book mentioned in this chapter: _A Guide to Gender: The Social Justice Advocate's Handbook_. You can get it online for free, and I really recommend you do. It's absolutely amazing.  
>  Whipped Cream & Other Delights,  
> TheHarleyQueen

Riley had first learnt about the LGBT+ community when she was six-and-a-half. The addition to her education came at the heels of her walking in on Uncle Eric (who was temporarily staying with them) and kind-of-Uncle Jack kissing on the couch. Uncle Eric had sat down with her and told her that some boys liked boys (and some girls liked girls) the same way mommy and daddy liked each other. Then kind-of-Uncle Jack told her that some girls were born in boy’s bodies, and vice versa. 

Uncle Eric had told kind-of-Uncle Jack that he was lumping too much on her at a time, but Riley had taken it in her stride. All that had really changed was her vocabulary. Even at six-years-old ( _ six-and-a-half! _ ), Riley incorporated they/them pronouns into her daily speech She also made sure to ask any new friends about their pronouns. It wasn’t hard, but everything she did made Uncle Eric really happy, and now he kissed kind-of-Uncle Jack when he left for work, and he talked about dates with his boyfriend, and he was  _ happy _ .

When Riley was fourteen, the Supreme Court of the United States legalised same-sex marriage in all fifty states. 

She hadn’t expected it. She’d read a little bit about  _ Obergefell v. Hodges _ but it had been a trying week and by Friday morning, she was tired and couldn’t deal and overworked and wanted the week to be over. And for a couple of hours, it seemed like it was going to be another ordinary Friday. Lucas walked her to class (he was talking about something, something that was probably important and  _ Riley should be listening _ , but her head was somewhere far too high in the clouds to listen.  _ And she tried, she really did, but at that moment focusing on Lucas seemed like it would require more energy than she had- than she’d ever had _ ) and Maya smiled at her and made comments that Riley was too tired to curb.

_ Not that she’d stop Maya from doing what she did anyway. Riley  _ **_adored_ ** _ Maya. Farkle had once said Riley was like the sun and Maya was like the moon, but he was wrong because Maya was Riley’s sun and all her stars, what kept her breathing and alive and  _ **_something_ ** _. So that was the one time Farkle was wrong, because Maya was the sun, who gave life, and Riley was the Earth, who took what she could and stayed near the sun. _

She was in History when the day turned around for the better.

It was 10:10 when Uncle Eric burst into the classroom, Josh right on his tail ( _ she’d long since given up calling him Uncle Josh, mostly because people looked at her funny when she did. She knew he was only three when she was born, but Josh had somehow always been an Uncle figure to her- not to be confused with her  _ **_other_ ** _ Uncle figure, of course _ ). 

“Pack your stuff, neech, we have a family emergency!” he called out. He and Josh were both wearing about a billion colours; Uncle Eric had on a rainbow sweater, rainbow sneakers, and had somehow managed to find rainbow pants. Comparatively, Josh was dressed down, only in jeans, a three-tone shirt, and glitter.

_ “ _ **_I’m_ ** _ her family.  _ I  _ think  _ I’d know if there was a family emergency,” her dad told her Uncle, but Uncle Eric just pushed Josh over to help her with her stuff and smiled at her dad, “Listen, Cor, I’ve never asked you for much. But I have a neech-related emergency. I need a Riley.” And, well, her dad’s weak spot  _ was _ always family. As she walked out, she placed a kiss on his cheek and he reminded her that she had to be back by the end of school. 

After that, she and Uncle Eric and Josh were running to the subway,  _ “What’s going on?”  _ She tried to ask, but her uncles just shouted at her to keep up, so she put her recent growth spurt to use and  _ ran _ .

It was only when they were on the subway, headed to Times Square when Riley finally got the story out of Josh between pants.

“The… supreme court… legalised gay… marriage,” he huffed out, but that was all she needed. Today  _ was _ a good day; how could a day when something so  _ amazing _ happened be anything else? So while they were on the subway she got Uncle Eric to do her hair nicely, and she texted Farkle to let him know about the verdict, and then she sat in a happy silence until they reached the station, at which point the three of them tumbled out onto the street and into (what Riley supposed was) the middle of an impromptu pride parade. There were stalls and people yelling and people crying, and she was pretty certain that that couple over there was straight-up getting  _ married _ , but it was  _ awesome _ . She’d never been to New York Pride before, her parents had always said that she was too young; but she figured that for a first-ever pride parade, this one was pretty good.

Then Uncle Eric was going to find Uncle Jack (they still weren’t married, but now that they  _ could _ , all over the country, it was only a matter of time) and Josh was pulling her over to a small group of temporary stalls and browsing through rainbow gear and merch.

While he was picking out face paints, Josh turned to her and mumbled, “You know I’m pansexual, hey Riles? And you’re okay with that?” And at that moment he was so nervous, and all she could possibly do was throw her arms around his neck and hug him tight, “Yeah, it’s okay with me, Uncle Josh.” ( _ He still smiled when she said it _ ).

And when she felt other bodies piling onto the hug and pulled away to see Uncle Eric and Uncle Jack and Uncle Shawn (who had apparently been with Uncle Jack) she laughed out loud, because she wasn’t sure that there was anything more beautiful. 

And the Uncle Eric presented her with a shirt that read  _ ‘I LOVE ALL OF MY GAY UNCLES’ _ , and shouted, “For you to wear today! I’ll buy you something else if you’d rather have that!” and Riley knew that there was only one thing that could possibly make this day any better, so she pulled out another shirt instead, “I was thinking of maybe getting this one?”

“World’s Okayest Bisexual,” Uncle Eric read aloud, before realising what she was telling them. And so Riley was pulled into another queer-Matthews-family hug, but not before Josh had pulled the shirt out of her hand and replaced it with another, one with a pink sword and a protest sign on the front that read ‘BI-FURIOUS’.

“Much more your style,” Uncle Shawn commented.

And so Riley turned back to the parade, slipping the new shirt on over her other clothes.

_ Later in the day, Josh would paint the bi flag on her cheek, and Uncle Eric would sprinkle glitter in her hair, and she’d dance to Hayley Kiyoko. Later that day, she’d drag her uncles back to her school, to drop her off before her last class of the day (art) started, and they’d all dance together to a last song on the subway. Later that day, Maya would see Josh and wave at him through the school window, and Josh would suddenly be distracted ( _ **_and Riley wouldn’t think that she was getting left behind by everyone. This was their thing, and she refused to let herself ruin it_ ** ). 

These days, Riley Matthews might have a day that ranged from anywhere between top-of-the-world to so-low-you-can’t-move.

This was one of the (steadily fewer) top-of-the-world days.

* * *

On the day Riley was challenged by Maya to make a new friend, something  _ changed _ . She’d picked a girl she’d met before ( _ even though Maya was unsuspecting _ ). She knew Chai- they’d spoken before. Chai was at Pride. Chai had hugged her, wearing a rainbow knit sweater. She  _ knew _ Chai, but she would have liked to know her better, to know small things like her favourite colour instead of just big things like her sexuality. She’d been struck by Chai, her pretty clothes and her pale blue eyes and her long legs. And when Chair didn’t like her ( _ didn’t like her at all _ ) and all Riley could really remember was  **Her- Her** texts and  **Her** voice and when  **She** told Riley she should “Get out of my school, freak!”

But Riley acted well (well, acted  _ Riley _ ) and made it out to be about someone not liking her, instead of someone lying to her face.

Riley had spoken to her mom about it and her mom had been… Topanga Matthews about it ( _ when it was later revealed that Chai’s family had four accounts of tax evasion, Riley would  _ **_never_ ** _ admit to being happy _ ).

She’d spoken to Lucas and he’d been unsympathetic. He’d tried to help, but Riley didn’t think that there was anyone in the world who didn’t like Lucas ( ~~ except her, sometimes ~~ ).

She’d spoken to Zay, but he’d told her to run away from her problems.

She’d spoken to Smackle, who’d been more concerned about whether this was happening to her.

She’d spoken to Farkle as they stargazed in the day, and he’d just smiled softly and told her that a lot of people didn’t like him and that he’d had to learn to live with it (she’d rolled on top of him and hugged him tightly, trying to tell herself that she’d never let go).

She’d asked Maya, but Maya was perfectly content with their friend circle as it was, and didn’t understand why Riley wanted a new friend so badly (didn’t understand that this wasn’t about a new friend anymore, that it was about a girl who Riley had felt a connection with, a girl who was  _ lying _ ).

Now, before anything more was said, Riley would  _ never _ cheat on Lucas. She  _ wouldn’t _ . She didn’t want to be a selfish-greedy bisexual ( _ she was already a selfish-greedy human _ ). But maybe…  _ maybe _ she had a crush on Chai, a  _ little _ one, and while she’d never act on it while she was with Lucas ( _ would never act on it at all if Chai continued to hate her _ ) a small, small part of her needed to know that it wasn’t just Lucas. She  _ liked _ girls, but she didn’t think that girls liked her back (or at least, that was what Chai was proving-  _ why’s she lying? _ ).

It may have taken a week (a week filled with many other dramas) but when Riley finally got Chai to come around (they weren’t friends, not even close, but Chai smiled and Riley was counting it) it felt like a hollow victory. Riley felt shallow again, two sides warring within her ( **_it’s just a crush, you wouldn’t have acted on it_ ** _ versus  _ **_you betrayed Lucas after causing so much drama over him, you shouldn’t be having these feeling while you’re in a relationship, you’re a terrible person, you’re the reason bisexuals get a bad name_ ** ) it was obvious which side was winning.

_ Her week had suddenly fallen to so-low-you-can’t-move _ .

* * *

Between the newly-dubbed ‘Trials of Chai’, there was Health Class. Originally, she’d felt she was raising a valid concern. “I don’t want to meet you” wasn’t exactly a great way to start a compulsory class that taught her something that was important to the way of the world.

The thing was: Riley didn’t like Coach Fanucchi. At first, she didn’t like Coach Fanucchi because he didn’t like them. But ten minutes into their lecture on page 73, she didn’t like him because he would be the reason that they didn’t learn anything, and that would make him the reason someone suffered. His complete lack of input on the subject would result in someone making a  _ stupid  _ choice, and then a girl somewhere might end up like Sage (who Riley liked, who was eating lunch in her dad’s class now, who was crying in a bathroom stall on Breakup Monday for a  _ completely _ different reason to all the other girls) or they’d end up like Kyle (two years above them, he’d been rushed to the hospital in the middle of her dad’s class on the Civil War, only to be told that his vomiting was a rare symptom of the HIV he’d contracted somewhere). 

Either way, at least one student in this class would end up like Uncle Shawn (completely repressed, embarrassed to admit that they may not be cishet) because the statistics said two in twenty, and Riley was  **one** . Because this course, for what little it did say, glossed over twice the amount of that information. Coach Fanucchi didn’t mention contraceptives beyond condoms, didn’t cover safe sex beyond not having it until marriage, and didn’t bring up the LGBT+ community either way.

So yes, Riley used her privilege as a teacher’s kid and asked her dad to talk to Coach Fanucchi, but instead, she got her dad talking about  _ soup _ and Smackle describing page 73 with an enthusiasm that was surely only found in erotica. And Riley had heard about the terrible standard of sex ed in America, but she’d somehow not thought it would happen to  _ her _ .

And the story of Health Class and Chai blended together in her head until it was three in the morning and Riley couldn’t sleep, too busy thinking about how much her school  _ sucked _ .

It also led to Riley creating her own committee.

* * *

There weren’t many kids at the first meeting of the **Sexuality and Gender Acceptance Committee** that Riley hosted. She didn’t expect there to be. She’d fought through hell to get the committee to be allowed, but she hadn’t been allowed to openly advertise it (the principal said that it was “inappropriate brainwashing” - it had taken Riley threatening him with the superintendent of schools to even get permission to hold the meeting).

But she tried her best with what she had. She hung up a rainbow flag at the back of the classroom (a class that was usually used for art theory, and so there was nothing in the room aside from a couple of desks and chairs). She baked cookies with rainbow m&ms and served jelly tots and three different shades of kool-aid. She brought several memory sticks with copies of  _ A Guide to Gender: The Social Justice Advocate's Handbook _ and  _ Love, Simon _ . 

In the end, ten kids showed up. Farkle, Zay, and Smackle (who stated quite plainly when she came through the door that Farkle had insisted she come, even though she didn’t want to), a sophomore lesbian couple (o _ ne of whom had purple hair! _ ), a junior who sat quietly in the corner in dungarees wearing a badge that said _‘ASK ME ABOUT MY PRONOUNS’_ , a girl in a flowy dress that Riley absolutely  _ loved _ , and, to Riley’s immense shock, Thor, Nikki and Francesca.

So she put on a brave face (to be honest, she’d expected  _ maybe _ Farkle to show up) and her new T-shirt, and stood up to speak.

“Um… good afternoon, everyone. Welcome to the first meeting of the Sexuality and Gender Acceptance Committee, or SAGA for short. I didn’t expect such a huge turnout, and I’m  _ so  _ glad all of you came. I want this group to be a safe space, and even though I’m not allowed to have the meetings during school hours, I’m truly touched that all of you took the time and effort to show up after school.” She gave a soft smile, and was gratified when the two sophomores and the junior smiled back at her.

“So when I was googling how to start one of these, they recommended we go around and introduce ourselves. Um, I’ll start, and then hopefully you’ll all catch on?” She asked it as a question, but no one said anything in response, so she took it as a go-ahead, “So, I just want everyone to remember that you don’t have to say anything that makes you uncomfortable, or anything you’re unsure of. So, uh, I’m Riley. I’m a freshman, I’m bisexual and I use she/her pronouns. Also, my favourite show is the Red Planet Diaries.”

She looked around, hoping someone would pick up from her without a cue. There was silence. She was about to ask Farkle to go next, when the kid in the corner spoke up, “I’m Ashley. I’m a junior. I use they/them pronouns, and I’m pretty sure I’m genderqueer. A fun fact… I, uh, love photography.” 

And that opened the floodgates, allowing the others to introduce themselves and be sure that there wouldn’t be judgement.

The sophomores introduced themselves as Emma and Mila. Emma had purple hair and they both used she/her pronouns. Emma owned three cats and Mila collected snowglobes. They also confirmed the rumors Riley had heard, saying that they were both lesbians.

The girl in the cool dress introduced herself as Heather. She was transgender, used she/her pronouns and didn’t know how to ride a bike.

Zay said that he was an ally, used he/him pronouns, and did ballet (Riley wanted to say it didn’t count because she already knew that, but relented).

Farkle also said ally and he/him, but he didn’t do ballet (that Riley knew of. The boy knew the Waltz, the Foxtrot and the Cha Cha, so she wouldn’t be surprised). Rather, he did his entire introduction in six languages: English, Spanish, Dutch, German, Mandarin Chinese and Sesotho.

Smackle said she used female pronouns and that she was also an ally, and said something about all the joints in her hand being hypermobile.

When the attention of the room turned to the three seniors, Thor took both Nikki and Francesca’s hand and pressed a kiss to each of them. They each said their names and their pronouns, and then Nikki started speaking, “So the three of us are polyamorous. Um, I’m bi and Francesca is -” her girlfriend broke in to announce that she was demisexual, but liked boys and girls, “and Thor is just really straight and proud to have two girlfriends.” 

They started answering Heather’s questions, and Mila joined in on their conversation every now and then. Riley struck up a conversation with Ashley about their outfit and Zay and Emma helped begin an in-depth discussion on the merits of dungarees, which Farkle followed confusedly. 

Later, the two groups sort of merged into one and began a discussion on the lack of LGBT+ focus in Health Class, and Nikki and Francesca shared what knowledge they had garnered over their years of research. It was all that RIley had hoped for.

_ When everyone left at four, Farkle stayed behind to help her clean up. He was talking animatedly, and as he tied the flag into a short skirt over her leggings using an over-complicated knot, Riley smiled.  _

_ She brought a college student, a photographer, and the Mayor of New York in for the second meeting of the SAGA committee. _

_ Two meetings later, Chai sat through a meeting. She didn’t talk to anyone, only listened, and she introduced herself as an ally. But it was a start, and Riley thought very firmly that the SAGA Committee was a far better investment than The Riley Committee. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Because this fanfiction is set to address several real-life situations (including but not limited to depression, being LGBT+, ADHD), I want to clear some things up before I really dive into that stuff. I don't have ADHD, so all my information there will come from research and first-hand _accounts_ (I do have a close friend that has really severe ADHD, so I do ask him about this stuff, but I want it to be known that I'm doing my best to represent it with what information I do have). However, I have been diagnosed with mild Depression and I am LGBT (if you're curious, I identify as queer) and so everything in those veins is a mix of research and personal experience.  
>  Whipped Cream & Other Delights,  
> TheHarleyQueen


	5. Monster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SECRETS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys like this. This is really the start of Riley's depression/ADHD arc. I owe you guys such a big thanks for everything you say. It _really, truly_ inspires me to write more, and longer. I was checking my page count, and this story so far has five chapter and is already several pages longer than the longest story from my Seven Deadly Sins verse, and that's down to the commenters (not that the people who commented on the Seven Deadly Sins verse weren't amazing, but you all very clearly relate to these characters, and I love you for that).  
> Whipped Cream & Other Delights,  
> TheHarleyQueen

“I love working hard to achieve positive changes in the human condition.”

 

 _Well, fuck_.

 

Riley took stock of the situation she found herself in: It was Monday morning. She was dressed ( **+2 points for being able to get dressed today** ). She was sitting next to Maya ( **+4 points for socialising when you didn’t have to** ) and she’d done her homework ( **+100 points. That’s hard** ). She’d watched… a lot of Red Planet Diaries over the weekend in preparation for the finale today.

 

Her mom was mad at her ( **-1 000 000 points** ).

 

So instead of doing what she wanted, and watching the last four episodes, she silently picked up her school bag. She couldn’t challenge her mom. There were _lots_ of things Riley could do now. She could sew and dance and name the stars (not with Riley names, but with their _real_ names). But one thing she would never be able to do, for as long as she lived, would be to stand up to Topanga Lawrence Matthews.

She fantasized about it, sometimes. When her mom got really intense, when she wouldn’t believe Riley no matter how many times she swore something to be true, when she looked at the 77% Riley got in Biology and said that Riley should get a distinction, regardless of the 94% she had for Science, Riley imagined standing up to her mom, telling her _no_ , telling her how _angry_ and _frustrated_ and _heartbroken_ her mom could make her. But she never would, not even when other people told her that her mom was being unreasonable, not even when other people told her how they stood up to their parents - Riley Matthews would never defy Topanga Lawrence Matthews (attorney at law).

 

Then again, it wasn’t limited to her mom. Riley rarely stood up to her dad, too. Her dad may have been less frightening than her mom (by a _long_ shot) but he was her dad, and that was to be respected. Her dad didn’t shout or fight the way her mom did, but his decision was always final. And Riley, for all she thought it was unfair, accepted that. Because they were her parents and that was how she’d been raised.

 

So, when her mom hustled her and Maya out the window, Riley didn’t come back, not like she wanted to, not like Maya suggested. She just left, her mom calling out behind her about being in the bakery _directly_ after school. And Riley would be there because she was the good daughter ~~and that role meant more to the people around her than she did~~.

 

On the way to school, Riley tried to stay silent. She just… didn’t want to alk. Maya chattered on about the Red Planet Diaries, and Riley let her, smiling and nodding when it was required of her, planning the scenario she’d just left over and over in her head. What if she hadn’t left, what if she’d told her mother _no_ , ... _what if_?

They met Lucas on the subway, and she pressed a kiss to his lips and asked how his weekend was, and he smiled back and told her that he’d flown down to Texas ( _she should have known that_ ). He told her about Major, the stallion he’d always ridden before he left, and how good it felt to be on his back again. And Riley (like she always did when Lucas came back from Texas) sat there and looked pretty and felt stupid. But when he asked her about her weekend, she started gushing about Red Planet Diaries, and all was well.

 

At school, Riley asked Emma how her weekend was and Maya rolled her eyes (neither Maya or Lucas were a part of SAGA, but Riley didn’t blame them- they had art classes at the same time). And Riley waved at Thor, Nikki and Francesca and they waved back, and Lucas hissed under his breath that he still didn’t like them and didn’t know why she did. And _maybe_ Riley was still in her head about the thing with her mom, but she’d done this before, going through the paces when all she wanted to do was curl up and die, and no one had noticed them. She’d make sure that nobody noticed now.

 

As she walked into class, she tried to take stock of what the ‘life lesson’ would be. There was no drama in her life (that other people could see)... she had no idea where the lesson would go.

 

On the chalkboard, it said THE COLD WAR.

 

“So as it turns out,” her dad began, standing up from his desk, “There’s actually a syllabus I have to teach at this here high school. And it’s mainly about the Cold War.”

 

“Now,” he continues, facing the class with a sense of glee, “Who can tell me about the most important battle in the Cold War?” And Riley isn’t an idiot, _knows_ this is a trick question, _knows_ Farkle will answer it correctly and still, Maya puts her hand up. This is how they are.

 

“Fourth of July, 1776,” Maya responds proudly, and Riley knows she’s doing it because Riley’s dad thinks it’s funny. True to form, her dad bursts into laughter and Riley remembers last Christmas when her mom was saying that her whole life has been dad passing her over for his best friend, and now all Riley can think is _same_ . Except it’s her being passed over for _her own best friend_ , and that seems to make things infinitely worse.

And right on cue, her father asks Farkle for the correct answer, and Farkle tells them that there were no battles in the Cold War, that it was a war between ideologies, and her dad sweeps away with that, but all Riley can think about is her own war of ideologies, fighting for herself or listening to her mom, and _how is it that even when he’s not trying, her dad’s lessons are about her life?_

 

* * *

 

She drifts through the rest of the day, her thoughts too loud and the lights too bright. She can’t focus on what her teachers are saying and she strays in and out of her friends’ conversations. The meticulous notes she takes in Science seem like a Herculean task but she does them anyway, her mom’s disappointed face when she saw the biology mark in the forefront of her mind. In Art, she can’t even be bothered to _look_ like she’s putting in effort, especially not when she’s sitting next to Maya, who draws and paints whatever she wants and makes it look so _easy_ , so she puts her head down on her arms and puts in her headphones, telling herself that the still life they’re supposed to do can be done… later. Whenever. Sometime that’s not _now_.

 

When she leaves Art for the cafeteria, she walks side-by-side with Lucas, and they chat quietly but Riley isn’t really saying anything, isn’t hearing the conversation. The buzz of the school is too great, and she wants to _cry_ because she’s so tired and nothing makes sense anymore.

 

She can’t stomach her food, too. She can’t eat but then she thinks about the people who _really_ can’t eat, who don’t have access to food, and she tries to swallow even the  smallest amount of her cafeteria meal but the food turns to ash in her mouth and her throat closes up, and she can’t do anything but _run_ to the bathroom ( _she has to escape, has to get out, can’t can’t_ **_can’t_ ** ) and she knows, without looking, that Farkle will be the only one to follow her because Maya is… somewhere, again, and she shoved Lucas’s arm off her when she stood up, so he’ll be angry about that ( _God, she has issues, but Lucas the Good is always so_ **_angry_ ** ).

But Riley ducks into a girl’s bathroom stall and fumbles with the lock, and then it’s just her, _finally_ , and she can just sit there, against the dirty, tiled floor and the bathroom door, her head between her knees, sore and uncomfortable but too tired to shift even an inch.

 

She doesn’t think that Farkle will follow her in, but eventually the warning bell rings and he does, he comes and sits by the door and she’s sure that people are looking at him strangely, but she _can’t possibly_ get up and go to class now. For once in her life, she can’t pretend everything’s normal, because just the idea of standing up and going to class makes her want to burst into tears, but she’s too tired to do even that, she sits there and she’s way past getting a tardy, she’ll be getting detention for this, but she can’t seem to bring herself to care. And Farkle just sits and leans against the door and whispers to her softly, asks her to open the door and let him in, asks her if she wants to go home, tells her to breathe with him. It’s all generic platitudes, he must have read somewhere what to do when your friend has gone _completely insane_ , but she lets him talk, and eventually, his voice soothes into being stable enough that she feels she can stand up and then open the door. To his credit, Farkle doesn’t immediately try to pull her into an embrace, sensing that she doesn’t want to ( _can’t_ ) be touched.

 

Instead, Farkle just calls his driver and they go back to his house, and at that moment she’s sure he’s her entire support structure. They lie on his floor and look at the stars as they drift, so, so slowly and he doesn’t make her talk, just lies there with her. At that moment, she wants to give Farkle a friendship ring of his own.

 

Riley never shows up to Topanga’s at 2:30 sharp.

 

* * *

 

When Riley comes through the door at half past five, she’s done her homework ( **+20 points- Farkle helped** ) and she walked home ( **+5 point for exercise!** ). But her mom’s sitting at the dining table, and Riley realises a couple of things in very quick succession.

 

Firstly: she left school with no letter, no explanation, nothing.

 

Secondly: she switched her phone off after telling her parents she was with Farkle.

 

Thirdly: she was supposed to help out at the bakery this afternoon.

 

“So, you decided to not show up at the bakery?” her mother asks, and it’s a cold fury that fills her voice. Riley gulps and steels herself for the fast-approaching scolding, but she says nothing.

 

“You decided that rewatching your show was more important than helping me?” And Riley can’t explain that she _wasn’t_ watching the show, because she has _no proof_. She knows the plot. She knows the behind-the-scenes stories and the Red Planet Diaries fan theories.

 

“Don’t you have anything to say in your defence?” All she can do is shake her head, but her mother goes on, “I’m going to ground you for three weeks. You sat in the bay window for _three days_ . No computer, no phone, no finale. You sit here, and you think about how _maybe_ you are a good person now, but it’s because your parents raised you right! And we helped you make all of the right decisions- except for this one! So you sit, and you thin, and if you think correctly, at the end of three weeks, I’ll get an apology.”

 

And Riley can’t even say that it’s unfair, because she ditched school and she ditched her mom and she deserves this. So she hands over her phone silently (her mom already has her laptop, she’s sure) and walks up to her room, closing the door softly behind her, and finally,  she lets the tears fall (but silently, silently, no one must know).

 

* * *

 

When Riley walks into history the next day, they're all talking about the finale. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t mention that she hasn’t watched it, but rather nods along politely and doesn’t contribute to discussion, but Farkle must know something’s up, because he doesn’t talk either ( _he’s not grounded, his parents don’t pay enough attention to care when they got a call from the school saying Farkle wasn’t in class- they just said he’d gone home early, and that was that_ ).

 

The board said 25 DECEMBER, 1991.

 

“Sometimes, a diplomatic solution is preferable to the terrible cost of war,” and Riley recognises that, and she knows what this is about -  not just Mikhail Gorbachev, but the fact that Riley was told to come home directly after school today, but she had a SAGA meeting (when she’d told her mom that, her mom had said it would go on without her, but Riley didn’t know that, and so she _had_ to go).

 

History was her last class of the day, and SAGA was directly after that. Since the first meeting, she started catering a little less, but she still always pinned the flag up and brought the main topic. The Committee had changed a bit since she’d first started it. Emma, Mila, Heather, and Ashley all still attended, but Smackle didn’t come anymore, and Chai had since joined, as well as a gay senior called Noah- Nikki’s twin brother.

 

That was how Riley ended up walking through her front door at 4:30, her mother’s furious face directly in front of her.

 

“I would like to begin with peace talks.” It was a weak start - Riley was _definitely_ in the wrong this time - but at least it _was_ a start.

 

“Is this an apology?” It wasn’t, because Riley didn’t need to be apologising for this. For yesterday, maybe. But not for this. It was a diplomatic solution.

 

Eventually, they talked for a while. Riley didn’t tell her mom why she’d left school- she _couldn’t_. She spouted something about Farkle needing her help, and it was good enough for her parents. She agreed that leaving school early and not coming to the bakery was wrong, but refused to apologise for directly disobeying an instruction today, even when her mom asked her to. So they compromised. Being grounded for two weeks (starting today) excluding the SAGA Committee.

 

“I love you too.”

 

And she took it in her stride, she thought. And she took the time to read a book Farkle had leant her: Cosmos, by Carl Sagan. _She was never going to stand up to her mom. If she had any say in it, she was never going to tell anyone the way she’d felt yesterday. That wasn’t Riley of her, it didn’t make sense, she didn’t have a reason to feel like that._

 

_Riley's monster was a lot scarier than her mother._


	6. Near the River

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> PANIC DISORDER

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This had less content than I would have liked, but I was really stuck on this chapter. I do, however, have some really good content coming up, so I'm content to let this chapter build the world a little bit.
> 
> Whipped Cream & Other Delights  
> TheHarleyQueen

**Before reading this chapter, please be advised that Riley has two panic attacks in this chapter. They are not particularly graphic, but if you are worried, there is a summary of the chapter at the end.**

* * *

 

The day after her sentence was over, Riley went to Farkle’s house... apartment… floor.  They were lounging in a blanket fort, watching The Theory of Everything on Farkle’s movie TV (not to be confused with his gaming TV. It was Farkle’s worst-kept secret that his parents tried to buy his love to excuse them from not being around). Riley had watched it when it came out and immediately thought of Farkle. He had refused to watch it though, saying that he didn’t want to affect his opinion of Hawking’s work with an emotional opinion about Hawking himself. She’d been pestering him about watching the movie for the last year, every single time they had a movie night, and when she’d opened her mouth to begin the well-worn argument, he’d surprised her by agreeing to watch it, right off the bat. Hell, he’d even brought out the disk- he’d been prepared. She would have questioned that, too, but then he’d flashed her a crooked grin and tossed her a bag of microwavable popcorn, and she’d let it slide.

But she couldn’t keep her attention on the movie. At first, she’d only looked over once or twice to make sure he was paying attention, wasn’t just humouring her by playing the movie. Then she’d noticed how into it he seemed and started glancing over semi-regularly to see his reaction to a particular scene. Now, they were three-quarters of the way through and she hadn’t looked at the screen in five minutes, too taken with how _taken_ he was with the film.

 

When the credits started to roll, they left it. It was a time-honoured tradition of Riley/Maya/Farkle to play a movie until it was _completely_ over, and that included all of the credits. So they stared at each other, tears glistening in Farkle’s eyes, while ' _Arrival of the Birds'_ played around them. Then Farkle pulled her against his side and pressed a kiss against her cheek, burrowing his face into her hair. In response, she tucked her face into his neck, and they lay there, wrapped in blankets until the sounds of the movie faded out entirely.

 

“Riley,” Farkle whispered, and she knew what he wanted to talk about- two weeks ago, when she’d gone completely _mad_ in the cafeteria, which had resulted in her getting grounded for two weeks. She mumbled a response against his skin, “Riley, I think you have a panic disorder.”

Just like that, her entire world came crashing down onto her. She wrenched away from him, scrambling to collect her shoes and hastily pulling them on, managing to put them on the wrong feet and then struggling to correct her mistake. In her madness, Farkle wrapped his thin arms around her, making it impossible for her to move. She hadn’t realised, before, how strong Farkle actually was (she knew he’s had a personal trainer from a very young age, his parents more concerned with how his image affected their social circles than their own son) and now she couldn’t pull herself from his grasp. He started whispering nothings into her ear, his chest rising and falling against her back, and slowly, she matched her breath to his, her eyes fluttering shut. He was her height and still growing, well on his way to being six feet.

When she came back into herself, she realised that he was whispering symptoms against her skin.

 

“-heart rate, feeling of choking, abdominal distress, sensations of shortness of breath or smothering, fear of losing control or “going crazy”, chest pain, feeling lightheaded, chills or heat sensations, derealisation or depersonalisation. Riley, you had a panic attack.” She just rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her eyes closed. _She wasn’t broken. She hadn’t had a panic attack. She didn’t have a reason to._

He kept his arms wrapped around her, pinning hers to her sides.

 

“Look, Riley, I can’t tell you what to do, but-” She didn’t want to hear it. She’d had been in life skills in middle school, had heard the ‘correct steps’ for dealing with a friend with a problem for three years in a row.

 

“No, Farkle you can’t,” she turned herself in his grasp so that their breath was occupying the same space, “I- the- Farkle, whatever the _hell_ happened two weeks ago, you _can’t tell anyone_. _Please_ , I’m begging you. If you love me at all-” and she could see the pain in his, because she _knew_ he loved her and she _kept using this against him_ , “you won’t tell anyone about what happened in the bathroom. Please, Farkle.” She could feel the tears dripping off her chin, could feel the sticky track on her face, and she could see that Farkle’s eyes were also brimming with unshed tears, but this was so much _bigger_ than them, and she didn’t want this to become who they were, keeping secrets from the rest of their group, but the very _thought_ of two weeks ago left her cold and scared and feeling like her chest had closed down.

 

“But, Riley, if it happens again-”

 

“If it happens again, I’ll _deal with it_. Everyone else has enough to deal with. Maya’s stressed because her mom’s up for a role, Lucas is having problems in his classes, and Zay has a recital coming up. I’m _not_ putting this on them.”

 

Farkle just pulled her tighter against him and said nothing. She didn’t try to make him. She didn’t know when everything got so complicated.

 

* * *

 

She was in Chemistry the next time she felt that _wrongness_. Quickly, the lights became too bright, the white fluorescent baring her soul to the class. She was hit by a brick wall of _fear_ and she wanted to _claw_ out her trachea, wanted to breathe, felt like she was going to die, right there in Chem, with Farkle’s eyes dancing over her in worry.

 

The bench they were sitting at was too hard, and her notes in front of her, carefully plain and readable (she had a _terrible_ handwriting, usually) didn’t look like anything she had ever seen before. She felt like she was floating, and dying, and she couldn't look away from the corner of her notes, where a thick black mark of ink had been spilt.

 

From nowhere, she remembered a moment last year when she’d been joking around and had said- _“Please direct me to the edge of the earth. I assume it’s near the river.”_ Well, she was in the middle of the river, off the edge of the world, then, because she was drowning and all the wanted to do was bring her knees up against her and to press her head into Farkle’s chest.

And Farkle, her sweet, intuitive Farkle, he stood up and quietly spoke to Ms Murphy and tried to lead her out of class, whispering to her to wrap one of her arms around her abdomen, to make it look like she was ill ( _she was ill, she was_ ** _dying_** ). But she couldn’t, she’d miss the class and wouldn’t understand the notes, how did he not _understand_ this? It took a hurried, whispered debate, but eventually, she conceded to go to the medbay _if_ Farkle stayed in Chemistry to take notes. He sighed, but sat back on the bench stool, promising to pack up her things if the period ended and she wasn’t back.

 

Riley didn’t go to the nurse.

 

Rather, she ducked into the first bathroom she could find, bending over one of the porcelain sinks, breathing heavily. She splashed cold water across her face, but the droplets just clung to her eyelashes and made them _too thick_ and made it look like she’d been crying { _all she wanted to do was cry_ }. She dug her fingers into her hair and placed her weight on the sink, and suddenly breathing wasn’t the hardest concept she knew anymore, but rather standing up, taking her weight by herself. Strains of songs floated through her head.

 

When the bathroom door slammed open and she caught sight of Farkle standing just outside the bathroom, she finally let go, heaving sobs racking her body and heavy tears falling from her eyes. She let him gather her up in those thin, strong arms. She and Farkle sunk to the floor together, the cold, dirty floor coming up to meet them.

 

He held her as she sobbed, and she had never been more grateful that she and Farkle were the only ones from their group in the Chemistry slot this year, because she was already seeing her dad’s blackboard covered in names like J.K. ROWLING and PRINCESS DIANA, because if Maya and Lucas were in this class, this would have been reported to her dad before the bell rang.

 

This time, Riley didn’t have the privilege of leaving school, of going to lie on Farkle’s bed and do _nothing._ This time, she had to pick herself up off the floor when the bell rang, had to wipe her eyes on her forearms and splash more water on her face and then walk off to English, because going to the nurse meant her dad finding out, and not going to the nurse meant ditching school.

 

So after Chemistry, Riley just… went on with her day. She sat next to Maya in English and giggled and gossiped, and she let Lucas wrap his arm around her at lunch, let him press small kisses to her cheek and her lips and her neck (even though they were sitting with Farkle and Maya and Zay and Smackle and it didn’t seem _appropriate_ to her) because she thought it was cute that he liked her so much. She went to History after break and sat through another Career Day { _in one universe, Maya had kidnapped Anastasia Boulangerie so that her mother would get a better chance at the role written for her. In this timeline, Maya didn’t kidnap anyone, and Bobbie Jo Thibodeaux was never reunited with Katy Grace Clutterbucket after Anastasia Boulangerie came into the picture, in this universe, Katy Hunter got the part in the movie because Anastasia Boulangerie remembered being Bobbie Jo Thibodeaux, but the role in_ **_Heart, 2016_ ** _didn’t kickstart the acting career she’d once dreamt of- that was okay, though, because Katy Hunter had different dreams from Katy Grace Clutterbucket and was perfectly happy with her wonderful daughter and her wonderful husband_ }.

 

She went to Topanga’s after school, with Maya, and the girls sat at their table for hours, working on their assigned essays for Lord of the Flies. Lucas came by to join them after JV Football practice and Maya moved to a different couch to give them space to sit together (and maybe Riley missed Maya’s soft warmth pressed against her thigh, but that didn’t mean she didn’t want to sit next to her boyfriend). She smiled at Farkle when he came in with Smackle after he finished Debate club and she Chess club (the couple had agreed to take up different extracurriculars so as not to completely dominate all other competition in their respective activities), and grinned at him when he bought her a danish and pulled out his Chemistry notes and began to copy them for her.

 

Really, it was like Chemistry had never happened. And Riley couldn’t have been more grateful.

 

* * *

 

Her date with Lucas was lovely. They’d both been busy, him with football and her with SAGA and studying, and they hadn’t had a chance to go on a date (just the two of them) in over a month. But it was sweet. The place was just down the road from Topanga’s, but even that small distance guaranteed them that Maya’s mom wouldn’t be spying on them and reporting back to _her_ mother. They sat cross-legged on couches and ate from a menu that was basically an assortment of takeout food (she got Chinese, he got a good strong American burger).

 

They talked about everything and nothing, really. They shared theories about the Red Planet Diaries finale and she talked about her and Maya’s plans for the weekend (they were running lines with Maya’s mom, as Morgan and Richard, the B Story romance between Katelyn’s daughter and her best friend in **_Heart_ ** ). She did her ‘male voice’ and Lucas made fun of the overtly-Texan Lachlan’s lines- _“I’m wearing my cowboy hat!”_.

And… she really, really liked Lucas. She enjoyed spending time with him and liked talking about the farm his family owned and the stories he came back with, liked splitting ice-cream with him, liked everything about him.

 

That was why she was so shocked when their date became the next time she- had a panic attack (really, she couldn’t deny it anymore). She couldn’t have said why- she couldn’t pinpoint the downwards spiral on a specific moment. She remembered a Justin Bieber song playing, remembered Lucas calling the waitress over and asking politely for the check, remembered smoothing her sweaty palms down on the denim skirt she was wearing, remembered excusing herself to the bathroom after paying, before they left.

After that- there was a gap, really. Somewhere in her walk to the bathroom, her pace picked up until she was nearly sprinting to lock herself in the bathroom stall, where she sat on the toilet, head resting in her hands as she tried to breathe slowly, to calm her racing heart. She massaged her temples and tried to _think_ but she was shaking and her breath was coming in heaving gasps. It felt like her lungs had locked themselves up, felt like a hand had reached inside her and was twisting the organs just below her ribcage. She _hated_ it. She’d been on dates with Lucas before, had never had a problem. She fumbled over her phone, unlocking the screen and sending Farkle a single message.

 

_Can I call you?_

 

But even as she watched the ticks, begging God to let them appear as blue, the message didn’t deliver, so she had to be the one to slow her breathing, the way he’d coached her. She had to leave the bathroom before she felt ready because she couldn’t let anything on, and she had to put on her face, without the help of her best friend { _since when had Farkle been given the title of Best Friend without Maya being mentioned in the same sentence?_ }.

  
Riley wouldn’t always have Farkle to rely on- _couldn’t_. That wasn’t how the world worked. But even when Riley was swept away by the river’s currents, she had his advice. His advice that steered her to the shore of the river, away from the edge of her world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter starts two weeks after the end of Chapter 5. Riley and Farkle are at his house, watching The Theory of Everything. Once the movie is over, Farkle cautiously brings up the idea of Riley having a panic disorder, but she swears him to secrecy about it, telling him she'll "deal with" whatever comes up.
> 
> The scene skips to a Chemistry class the next day, in which Riley begins to feel the same way she did before her previous panic attack. She starts to disassociate a bit, and when Farkle realises what's happening, he gets the teacher to excuse her from class. Riley tries to refuse, telling him that she can't miss the notes they'll be getting, so they compromise that Farkle stays in class to take notes the way Riley does while she goes to the school nurse. When she leaves class, she goes to the nearest bathroom instead, knowing that if she goes to the nurse, her dad will find out. Farkle anticipates this and comes to find her after class, and she breaks down crying in the bathroom. After she pulls herself together, the two go on with their day.
> 
> The final scene details a date between Lucas and Riley. Everything goes very well, but at the end of the night, she finds herself in the bathroom having another panic attack. It's not caused by anything specific (as panic attacks sometimes seem to have no reason) but it is the first time she has to deal with one alone.
> 
> Throughout the chapter, mentions of the plot of Girl Meets Hollywood are woven in. Maya doesn't kidnap Bobbie Jo Thibodeaux/Anastasia Boulangerie, because that is highly unrealistic and I'm trying to rewrite the plot at least semi-realistically. Katy Hunter does still get the role in the film, but several other roles that are mentioned in the episode are changed to give the movie a more "realistic" shot- for example, there is no character called Banana.
> 
> The movie will probably be mentioned at several points later in this story, so here's a brief summary of the 'new' movie:
> 
> Katy Hunter will star in Heart as Katelyn, a down-on-her-luck actress who finds love and happiness in her true love, Cedrick. The two are pushed together by Katelyn’s daughter, Morgan, and her best friend Richard (who form the B Story romance) and their friends, Lachlan, Jon and Braxton.


	7. Chaos Theory, The Butterfly Effect, And The Computer Glitch That Started It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FOR WANT OF A NAIL

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Halloween! For all those who noticed that I didn't write a chapter for Girl Meets World: Of Terror (3) this is it! This chapter doesn't affect _now we're patriots_ 's storyline at all. But I hope you enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Whipped Cream & Other Delights,  
> TheHarleyQueen

Xn+1 = RXn (1-Xn)

Riley Matthews got to school earlier than most. Her dad taught History at Abigail Adams, and she preferred to ride with him than to walk or take the subway (she never knew what to do with herself on the subway, never knew where to sit or what to do with her hands). But arriving early allowed her to sit on the bench near her locker and text her uncle, who’d either be heading to his classes or to work as her Uncle Eric’s PA (Uncle Eric was the Mayor of New York City, and Josh was only three years older than her). It also gave her time to put up posters for Debate Club (in spite of this being her first year in Debate, and in high school at all, the head of debate had taken a liking to her, seemed to be training her up to be his successor).

Riley _loved_ Debate Club, and not only because she was good at it. She loved hearing other people’s opinions on all nature of matters, loved to learn new perspectives. She also _loved_ arguing her point, so really, Debate Club had been the natural booth for her to gravitate towards at the Student Organisations Fair.

 

As she stapled a poster advertising this week’s topic ( _Should churches (defined as churches, temples, mosques, synagogues, etc.) remain tax-exempt?_ ) to the notice board in the stairwell, she watched the student begin to stream in, picking out certain faces amongst them. Noah Argota, the head of the Debate Club, waved at her and shot her a wink before disappearing into the wave of students. Noah was great as the Debate Club president, never chose topics like abortion or LGBTQ+ rights, because _he_ knew they weren’t up for debate, and he always shot down those who tried to propose them as valid debate ideas.

 

She smiled at Chai, who nodded back. She and Chai had kissed, once, a couple of months ago, but nothing had ever come of it. Chai wasn’t ready to be out yet, which Riley respected wholeheartedly, and Riley, well…

 

Riley had a _huge_ crush on the girl who sat behind her in History.

 

Her name was Maya Hart, and she was so pretty. She has curly blonde hair that she brushed less than she should, and wore tight leggings and leather jackets and heeled boots everyday, come hell or high water. She painted her lips bright red and her eyes dark, and when she deigned (was forced) to join class discussions, she was clearly highly intelligent, well-read, and had _fascinating_ opinions. She was angry at the world and didn’t talk much, but she was nice, beneath it all, and it was all Riley could do _not_ to kiss her every time they made eye contact. Especially when she saw Maya smiling softly at people from her vantage point against the pillar, longing to be part of a group but scared of making the first move.

And the reason she hadn’t asked her out yet was walking into class now. Lucas Friar.

 

He’d moved here from Texas in middle school, but hadn’t ever seemed to make friends- mostly he just jumped around from girlfriend to girlfriend (Missy Bradford, Sarah Carpenter, even Isadora Smackle from Einstein Academy, for a brief period). But he always came back to Maya Hart.

Riley could never understand their relationship- they fought all the time, and she didn’t think that they had  _ever_ actually put a label on what they were, but the two of them sat side-by-side in most classes, flirting and fighting and touching and ignoring each other. There was nothing that could tell the rest of the class what mood they’d be in on any given day- they weren’t friends with anyone except each other. Most of the time, Riley’s dad said he just hoped for a day when they were happy because when they were ignoring each other they somehow dragged the whole class into it. He’d tried to work their dynamic into his lessons before -Thomas Jefferson and Alexander Hamilton, who’d worked together when it counted- but none of it worked. Maya Hart and Lucas Friar were simply untouchable, unfortunately for Riley.

 

 _On the other hand_ , she thought, as she caught glimpse of a figure rushing into school after the bell rang, as always. _She and Farkle seemed to have accidentally become a different sort of untouchable_. Riley wasn’t sure when it had happened. Farkle Minkus had been a family friend, once upon a time, but now he was just her  _best friend._

Her mom and his dad had been intellectual rivals in high school, and she sometimes got the feeling that his dad had sort of expected them to get married one day. Her dad and made fun of/been friends with Mr Minkus through heir entire school career, and seemed to be terrified of Mrs Minkus ( _although, to be completely honest, Riley hadn’t seen Mrs Minkus in nearly two years_ ) so their families had pushed Riley and Farkle together as kids. Back in middle school, when Farkle had retreated into himself, she’d been the one to deal with the kid who was pressing him against the lockers to whisper cruel things in his ear. Later, he’d been the one to hold her when she cried about the texts she was receiving ( **just stop breathing/no one likes you/do you even have friends/bet your sleeping with him slut/gonna cry to daddy bitch/your pathetic/everyone will be happier if you just dont wake up** ), had been the one who took her to the mall to get her number changed, had immediately blocked the contact in her phone ( _but not before tracing it back to the bully and threatening to_ **_ruin_ ** _her - not that Riley knew that_ ).

 

They weren’t even done with their first year of high school, but somehow, _everyone_ knew her and Farkle. She was on Debate and had started SAGA, and he was on the mathletes and in Physics Club and Chess, and both of them had joined the yearbook committee and the school magazine (Riley as a photographer and Farkle as a junior editor). They were both on the Honour Roll, and both took part in sport (she did girls’ soccer and Farkle had been strong-armed into joining cross-country).

 

Riley wasn’t quite sure how it happened. She and Farkle had gone into high school intending on joining the clubs they’d been part of in middle school but had then befriended seniors and had been recruited by teachers. And their willingness to participate seemed to have earned them a weird place of honour in the school. She hadn’t even realised until a couple of days ago.

 

She’d been approached by Trev Rivera, two years her senior, and he’d asked her on a date to Olive Garden. She’d politely declined (there was no way she was going on her first date with a _junior_ she didn’t even know), but he’d started harassing her, popping up after every class and walking her to her next class, trying to persuade her to say yes. Farkle had tried to step in and it hadn’t helped _at all_. Eventually, she’d been leaving the cafeteria with Farkle while the juniors and seniors had been walking in, and he’d asked her again, and she’d told him to _fuck off_.

That, of course, had led to him grabbing her wrist and telling her that she should “ _be more polite, he was trying to be nice_ ”. Farkle had immediately told him to let go, and she’d been gathering her strength to rip her arm from Trev’s grip when Antione Grant and Thor Benward had appeared behind her, telling Trev to let go (he’d done so without another word, slinking away to lick his wounds). They’d nodded at her and continued to their regular table, and Farkle had pulled her away to Art ( _where she spent the lesson watching Maya engaged in her own, beautiful world, and wishing she was part of it_ ).

 

She smiled at Farkle and grabbed his hand, pulling him into History.

 

Her father had written NORMANDY LANDINGS on the board. He stood up from his desk as the students all made themselves comfortable, and began his lecture.

 

“The Normandy Landings, codenamed Operation Neptune and commonly referred to as ‘D-Day’, was the largest seaborne invasion in history. “D-Day” was an Army designation used to indicate the start date for specific field operations. In this case, the “D” in D-Day doesn’t actually stand for anything—it’s merely an alliterative placeholder used to designate a particular day on the calendar. But because this invasion was so big, the word “D-Day” took on a new meaning. We now use it in everyday life to refer to an important day, the day something big happens.”

 

He moved to the window, his preferred vantage for teaching, mostly because he said he felt that the “kids in the back” couldn’t escape him from there, “We learn about history because it’s important to learn from our mistakes. But we forget that most events in History affected our lives today in some way.”

Riley could feel Maya shooting spitballs at her, could imagine that Lucas was laughing at her from where he sat behind Farkle, but said nothing. She didn’t want to be a distraction. Rather, she leaned over and took Farkle’s hand as Yogi began to question her dad on their assignment ( _write a 400-word essay on a word from history that took on a new meaning because of what happened_ ). She heard Lucas fake-wretch, and couldn’t resist turning around to glare at him. He just smirked in return, raising his voice to call her dad’s attention.

 

“Hey teacher-man, how come Maya and I aren’t allowed public displays of affection, but your daughter and her boyfriend can basically sit on each other’s laps without taking any shit? I’m pretty sure that’s nepotism or something.”

Riley could feel herself flushing scarlet, and Farkle dropped her hand just as fast. They’d considered it, once, and had decided that it might be quite nice if they weren’t both severely crushing on other people. She hadn’t known that there were rumours  _like that_ about them, and couldn’t resist glancing back at Maya to see what she thought. She was just staring silently at the back of Riley’s head.

 

“Well, Mr Friar, I don’t personally feel that friendships should be discouraged in this class, but there _is_ a difference between holding hands and you _actually_ trying to keep Ms Hart on your lap during class. And I would appreciate it if you’d refrain from swearing in my class.”

 

“Sure thing, teacher-man,” Lucas replied, not sounding at all as if he intended to keep his word, “but only if you give me my hat back.” Lucas wore a black cowboy hat to school every day, and her dad confiscated it at the beginning of each class and gave it back at the end, otherwise, he wouldn’t take it off.

Somehow, _that_ was what got Maya’s attention. She barked a laugh and fired her shot, “Hey Friar, you’re not as tough as everyone thinks you are.”

 

It didn’t seem to get to Lucas though. Riley wondered, again, at the dynamic between the two of them, “Hey Hart- neither are you.”

 

The bell rang before the class could devolve any further, and everyone shoved their things into their bags, eager to be out as soon as possible while Lucas and Maya were glaring at each other like that. Riley still couldn’t remove the blush from her cheeks.

 

Xn+1  = RXn (1-Xn)

 

Later, Riley was at Topanga’s, waiting for her shift to be over. They had several waitresses, but her mom usually gave them off on Friday evenings, when business was slow, and let Riley earn her pocket money by working on weekends. There was currently no one in the cafe, so Riley was bent over the counter, working on her essay, when _she_ walked in.

This was a secret the two of them shared.

 

Riley knew that Maya was heading out to a night shift at the same diner her mom worked at. She knew that Maya was coming from a shift at Village Cleaners Laundry, where she’d been since school let out. That was why Riley did this- she knew that Maya _couldn’t_. Maya hadn’t asked, but when her dad had told her to find out why Maya just wasn’t turning in assignments, and Riley had found out, she’d _offered_.

She’d tried to consistently keep the work at the level Maya had been handing in before she’d taken a second job, but sometimes she slipped up, and Maya got upset ( _Riley hated to upset Maya_ ).

 

That was why Riley silently passed Maya the typed-out essay that she’d done at home and smiled at her, even as Maya slipped into the bathroom and put on her uniform for the diner. She also pushed a danish at Maya on the way out (maybe she couldn’t date Maya the way she wanted to for fear of Lucas Friar, but she could _damn_ well take care of her).

But today was different.

 

Because today, Lucas Friar stormed in not five minutes after Maya left.

 

“Where is she?” he was practically snarling. She tried to act nonchalant.

 

“I don’t know.” The part half of their deal relied on no one finding out, _especially not Lucas Friar_.

 

“You’re lying. I know you are. Listen, Maya’s my-” he paused and she leaned in,  hopeful, wondering if she’d finally figure out what they were to each other, “she’s mine. And I want to help her. _Please_.”

 

Riley had never seen Lucas so blatantly emotional about something. It was a complete 180° on his usual attitude, and she didn’t know what to do, because maybe he could help Maya better than she could, but then Maya wouldn’t talk to her again, and Riley couldn’t let that happen.

She settled on a shrug.

 

“Sorry, can’t help you with Maya. But can I help you with anything else? Coffee? A danish?” she busted out Customer Service Riley.

 

Lucas Friar shot her a dark glare.

 

“Listen, Matthews,” he began, his voice low and rough, “let me tell you a story.”

 

“In this world, there are sheep, and there are wolves. Sheep stick together, and wolves stick together. But they don’t cross over. There has never been a sheep and a wolf that stuck together against the rest of the pack, or the rest of the flock. And it’s not hard to tell which is which.

I’m a wolf. _Maya’s a wolf_. We stick together, we’re a pack. You and Minkus, well, you’re sheep. You’re part of an easily misguided flock. It’s not your fault. That’s just the way it is.”

 

He braced his hand on the table and leaned forward, to the point where their foreheads were nearly touching, “But you’re a sheep, and Maya’s a wolf. And she’d drop you in a moment, so stop trying to stick with her. You’re part of a flock, not a pack.” Riley wasn’t quite sure what to do with the insinuation (more like the blatant statement) that she was a sheep, so she just asked again- “I’m sorry, sir, but can I help you with something _regarding our service_?” She plastered on the smile of all waitresses but remained tense, ready to defend herself.

 

“I regret talking,” he said, sounding as if he thought she couldn’t understand what he was saying. She kept the smile on an waited.

 

Eventually, he relented. “Coffee, black. And the WiFi password, if you have one.”

 

She rattled off the password and turned to make coffee. He retreated to a corner and pulled out his laptop, clearly settling in.

 

“We close at ten!” she called to him.

 

He didn’t acknowledge her.

 

Xn+1  = RXn (1-Xn)

 

_It went like this. A butterfly flapped its wings in Central Park. A four-year-old girl pointed at it, pulling her mother to a standstill. This meant that they didn’t see the cyclist, who had to serve to avoid hitting the mother and her child. He fell over three yards later, right at the feet of young, stressed attorney, Topanga Lawrence-Matthews. She spilt her coffee all over her blouse, which meant that she had to duck into the nearest bathroom to try to clean herself up before walking home._

_This detour to the bathroom meant that she took an extra fifteen minutes to walk home. In that extra fifteen minutes, her husband was worried sick, but couldn’t reach her because her phone had died after being doused with hot coffee._

_Because she arrived home fifteen minutes later than usual, her husband, Cory Matthews, was stressed beyond belief when she finally arrived, shirt stained and tired. Because he was stressed, Cory Matthews welcomed her home with a “where were you, Topanga?” instead of an “I missed you, babe”._

_Because she was greeted in slightly harsher terms than usual when she arrived home, and because she was still covered in coffee, Topanga Lawrence-Matthews didn’t immediately go up to say hi to her six-year-old daughter. Rather, she started crying in her husband’s arms, the stress of working two jobs and keeping their family afloat (even with the help of his parents) overwhelming her._

_Because his wife was crying, Cory stayed to comfort her, instead of checking on his daughter, who’d been playing in her room for half-an-hour, where he’d sent her after he’d begun to worry about his wife._

 

_Because the two of them didn’t go up to their daughter’s room, Riley Matthews never opened her windows on the first day of spring._

 

_Because Riley Matthews didn’t open her windows, Maya Hart didn’t hear her singing while she was crawling around the fire escape of the building next to hers._

 

_Because Maya Hart didn’t hear the singing, she never went to investigate, which meant that she never crawled in through a bay window and never met Riley Matthews._

 

_Because a butterfly flapped its wings in Central Park, Riley and Maya didn’t meet until they were far older._

 

_Because a butterfly flapped its wings in Central Park, Topanga Lawrence-Matthews came home and cried into her husband's shoulder about the stress she was under._

 

_Because Topanga Lawrence-Matthews came home and cried into her husband's shoulder about the stress she was under, she and her husband had a long talk about ways they could ensure that she’d be less stressed._

 

_This led to them deciding not to have any more surprises like Riley (they could always adopt if they desperately wanted more kids)._

 

_A couple of months and several long talks after a butterfly flapped its wings in Central Park, Topanga Lawrence-Matthews made the appointment to have her tubes tied._

 

_Because a butterfly flapped its wings in Central Park, August Matthews was never born._

 

Xn+1  = RXn (1-Xn)

 

Riley was at a Debate meeting with Einstein Academy, and Farkle was there to support her. She was up against Isadora Smackle, well-known as the toughest of her competitors. Their topic was Churches and Taxes- Smackle arguing _for_ churches being taxed, Riley arguing against it.

 

The debate ended in a stalemate, and Riley took it in her stride.

She went up to shake Isadora’s hand after the debate, and Farkle joined her. She laughed quietly- Farkle’s crush on Isadora Smackle was the least subtle thing in the world, and it was deadly obvious that Isadora returned his affections. So, once the generic platitudes were through, Riley stepped aside and let Farkle engage her back into Churches and Taxes. She smirked, and when she caught Farkle’s eye, she mouthed _ask her out_. He went a light pink, but nodded slightly, and turned back to Isadora.

 

Riley smiled softly and began her walk home.

 

She was near Topanga’s when she bumped into Maya. Literally.

 

But it seemed that Maya wasn’t going to say anything, and so Riley wouldn’t either. Except- “Thanks for not telling Lucas where I was.”

 

Riley turned around to face Maya, “You didn’t want me to.”

 

Maya shook her hair out of her face and shrugged, “Yeah, but still. He said he gave you the whole speech about wolves-and-sheep, and you still didn’t crack. So good on you.” It looked as though that was all Maya had to say, but Riley wasn’t ready to be done with the conversation “Maybe I’m not a sheep.”

 

Maya smirked at her, all pretty cheekbones and sparkling eyes, “Oh yeah? What are you, then?”

 

“Maybe I’m a hummingbird.”

 

Maya snorted, and Riley thought it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever heard, “A _hummingbird?_ ”

 

“Yeah,” Riley nodded once, decisively, “Fast, busy, with a nose in everybody’s business.” That got a _proper_ smile out of her.

 

“Well then, Hummingbird. Don’t let me stop you.”

 

Xn+1  = RXn (1-Xn)

 

“Well done on your B minus, Ms Hart,” her dad was saying, holding Maya’s test paper up for the whole class, “You’ve got some serious potential. I appreciate your take on the term _Bourgeoisie,_ especially when you pointed out that most people fall into a class that would be considered the bourgeoisie according to Marx. Well done.”

 

Lucas Friar jammed his elbow into Maya’s side, snickering to her about _actually having intellectual opinions._  Maya shot a confused look at Riley in return (and no wonder- Riley had overheard her talking about that very subject a couple of weeks ago- it had been how she’d decided what to write).

 

History was their last class, and when the bell rang, Maya and Lucas damn near sprinted towards the exit. Riley stayed behind. Her dad took her home, too, and he only ever left after four. Riley had soccer practice today, but only from 3:30. So she sat in her dad’s class quietly and wondered about Maya.

 

When she left the class at 3, already changed, sports back over her shoulder, she nearly bumped into Maya.

 

“B minus, Hummingbird?”

 

“Well, yeah.” Riley smiled softly at Maya, leading her over to an alcove, “Maya, I only used stuff I’d heard you say before. I’m just the one who wrote it down. You’re a B minus, Maya, if not better.”

 

Maya Hart refused to meet her eyes, choosing instead to look at Riley’s jean jacket. It was old, had belonged to her dad in the 80s and 90s, but neither he nor her mom used it anymore, and it had somehow made its way into Riley’s closet.

“I know you’re there, cowboy,” Maya suddenly said, and Lucas Friar stepped out of the shadows. Riley wondered, again, at how they did that. How they were so in sync.

 

“You’re doing her homework?” He asked, confusion in his tone. Riley half-shrugged, nodding.

 

“She doesn’t have time.” Lucas held her gaze, both of them refusing to break away. After thirty seconds of tense silence, he nodded.

 

“Guess you’re part of the pack after all.”

 

But Riley shook her head at him, smiling at Maya. “Nah. I’m a hummingbird.”

 

Xn+1  = RXn (1-Xn)

 

_Chaos is the science of surprises, of the nonlinear and the unpredictable.  These phenomena are often described by fractal mathematics, which captures the infinite complexity of nature. A fractal is a never-ending pattern. Fractals are infinitely complex patterns that are self-similar across different scales. They are created by repeating a simple process over and over in an ongoing feedback loop. Driven by recursion, fractals are images of dynamic systems – the pictures of Chaos. Geometrically, they exist in between our familiar dimensions. Recognizing the chaotic, fractal nature of our world can give us new insight, power, and wisdom._

 

_In another time, Farkle and Isadora stay in a relationship all through high school, but part ways on friendly terms when he chooses to go to the Massachusetts Institute of Technology and she to the University of California, San Francisco Medical Center. They wanted different things from life._

 

_In another time, Lucas Friar doesn’t become a veterinarian. He moves back to his family’s ranch and takes over the running of the place when his grandfather dies. He’s good at it, has a head for business. He eventually marries Vanessa Kinney, the cheerleader who dated his middle school best friend._

 

_In another time, Isaiah "Zay" Babineaux never quite develops his passion for dance, and he too stays on the family ranch and handles things. He and Lucas never quite reconnect, Lucas angry about missing a year of his life and Zay pining over Vanessa._

 

_In another time, Maya Hart loves art but never tries to make a career out of it. She gets into a teaching college and becomes a History teacher at Abigail Adams after Cory Matthews is promoted to vice principal. She never tells him that Riley wrote the essay on the bourgeois._

 

_In another time, Farkle doesn’t take to quantum mechanics the way he did when he was teaching Riley about the universe, so he takes over his father’s company. He’s good at what he does and increases Minkus International’s charity donations by over 35%._

 

_In another time, Riley Matthews moves to London in 2016, partly glad to be out of the shitstorm that is the USA elections. But without her friends, she never gets into astronomy, and she majors in fashion design (she’s good, excellent even. She’s eventually hired to work for Victoria’s Secret, and people love her designs). She’s at the Fashion Show when she bumps into her childhood friend, Farkle Minkus, and things evolve from there._

_In another time, they welcome their baby girl, Ada, into the world 12 months after they’re reunited._

 

_In another time, Riley Matthews and Farkle Minkus married in 2029, three years after Ada Matthews-Minkus is born._

 

_In another time, Riley Matthews-Minkus and Farkle Minkus had five children; Ada, Rosalind, Hugo and Henrietta, and Alexander._

 

_This is not that time._

 

_But that doesn’t mean that, in this time, things were worse._

 

_No, they’re just… different._

 

_All because a butterfly flapped its wings in Central Park._

 

Xn+1 = RXn(1-Xn)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://www.history.com/news/why-was-it-called-d-day
> 
> https://fractalfoundation.org/resources/what-is-chaos-theory/
> 
> https://www.forbes.com/sites/startswithabang/2018/02/13/chaos-theory-the-butterfly-effect-and-the-computer-glitch-that-started-it-all/


	8. Soil from Volcanoes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> FIRST FIGHT

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it took me _forever_ to write this chapter, I know, but I was struggling to add relationship conflicts without letting the characters seem out of character. I hope you enjoy this chapter, though.  
>  You should go watch [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=A1RTTBCnhMk&t=0s&list=LLVIUoykscvAdZAQoxbX1hzA&index=2), though. It was an excellent inspiration to get started on writing this story again.
> 
> Whipped Cream & Other Delights,  
> TheHarleyQueen

 

So, to start with,  _ Riley did not intend for the day to end up like this _ . It’s Tuesday, which means SAGA, which means spending time with friends and talking about  _ real _ stuff and Riley was so excited. She’d even come up with a topic that she was really looking forward to discussing-  _ How’d you figure it out? _ She and Lucas had a date planned afterwards, too, at a Dim Sum restaurant. Really, she hadn’t intended to end up at Topanga’s with Emma, Mila and Farkle. That was  _ not _ how today was supposed to go { _ but really, Riley was so happy with this _ }.

 

It started like this.

 

In  History, they were covering the Cold War. Nothing new had happened in her life, so there was no need for her father to take the syllabus into his own hands. She was leaning back to hold Maya’s hand, and they weren’t paying complete attention.  _ History was the one subject that Riley could get away with it- after all, she literally lived with a History tutor. _ Lucas was scribbling notes at top speed, and Farkle was listening to her dad, but took no notes (he didn’t need to- he remembered it all anyway). It was a  _ good _ day. After class, she’d go to SAGA and Maya and Lucas would go to Art Club, and then she’d meet Lucas for their date, and all was good.

 

Then her dad said that they could talk amongst themselves (later, Riley would think that  _ that _ was where it started going downhill).

 

So she turned to Farkle, still holding Maya’s hand, and started up a conversation they’d been having over the last couple of days, about the SAGA committee doing something to raise money for an LGBT+ shelter. She didn’t think anything of it, as she and Farkle traded ideas and joked about sugar-filled muffins (she’d long since put aside any grudge she might have had over that).

She suggested he come over for dinner on Wednesday, so that they could make official plans (she also invited him over for dinner because she knew that, otherwise, he’d be eating dinner alone, likely on his bed, because his dad was in Japan for business and his mom was on a Caribbean spa-cruise). He agreed enthusiastically, and Maya looked up from her drawing to let Riley know that she was eating with Shawn and her mom that night (Maya, Shawn and Katy all came ‘round on Fridays, but Riley had been seeing less of Maya-  _ not that she was sad that Maya had a happy family now _ ). Riley had nodded and pressed a kiss to her cheek { _ she hadn’t noticed Lucas’s look of worry at the ideas of  _ **_only Farkle_ ** _ going to Riley’s. If only he knew how much time the two of them spent together _ }.

 

Lucas was a really good boyfriend, and a  _ good _ guy, but he could sometimes get jealous.

 

But then the bell rang, and Riley didn’t notice that Lucas was worried, wasn’t given the chance to assuage his fears- after all, as far as both she and Farkle were concerned, there was  _ nothing  _ of a romantic nature between them { _ except latent feelings that he didn’t remember, and a deep gratitude on her part, for the stars, and for keeping her secrets, and maybe a friendship that went so deep that it  _ **_could_ ** _ one day bubble into something more, if she weren’t with Lucas and he weren’t with Smackle _ }.

 

After History, Riley went to the Art Theory class to set up for the SAGA meeting (really, that just meant pinning up the flag and placing the chairs in a circle). She was blasting  _ Nine In The Afternoon _ , and when Farkle grabbed her and pulled her into a dance, she just went with it, laughing.

 

_ After History, Lucas allowed his face to crack. He liked Riley, really and truly (it was  _ **_always_ ** _ Riley). And he’d never been there for her SAGA committee, even though he  _ **_should_ ** _ have been. So after History, Lucas went to Maya and  _ **_begged_ ** _ her to ditch Art Club with him, just for a day, and to go to SAGA instead. Maya agreed with grace, but insisted that they first go to Art Club and let them know where they would be _ .

 

That was how Maya and Lucas walked into the Art Theory Class at 3:15, looking around at the collected members of SAGA, who had all already taken their seats. Most of them, Lucas didn’t recognise, but he  _ did  _ know Thor Benward and his two girlfriends (Nikki and…  _ Francesca? _ ). It had been the scandal that shook the school when everyone figured out he was dating  _ both _ of them, but no one said anything to their faces. And yeah, he’d known that they were kind of Riley’s friends, now, but he didn’t realise that they were  _ regularly _ attending her committee.

 

Their entrance brought all conversation to a halt. Farkle stared with wide eyes, and Thor frowned slightly, and Zay watched Riley quietly. Everyone in the room was waiting on her reaction { _ she’d once brought up that she was sad that Lucas and Maya had never attended a meeting- even though she’d quickly rushed to correct herself, saying that she  _ **_knew_ ** _ that they had other commitments and didn’t hold that against them  _ **_at all_ ** }. But Riley, sweet Riley, burst into a beaming smile and welcomed them into the room, bounding over to pull her best friend and her boyfriend into a hug.

 

“Oh, I’m so happy you’re here,” she babbled, rushing across the room to set up two extra chairs. “And it’s so perfect! Our topic today is  _ how did you know _ , which- I think- is an excellent entry topic, especially for allies, because it’s such a great way to understand the mind of the community better!” 

Maya and Lucas took their seats quietly, by comparison, even as they quietly spoke about the other members in the room, wondering at Emma’s hair and Noah’s eyeliner.

 

Riley called the meeting to order, asking them to introduce themselves as everyone else in SAGA did, and looked at Maya with pleading eyes, asking her to oblige.

 

“Uh, well, I’m Maya Hart. I’m a girl, and an ally, I guess?” she looked up at Riley, who smiled encouragingly, “I, uh, I like to paint.”

 

Maya knocked Lucas with her shoulder as if tagging him in. They exchanged a soft smile. After all, this was what their friendship (and, for a brief period, their relationship) was made of: teasing and pushing and toeing the line. Lucas smirked and looked around the room, struggling to find a starting point.

“I’m Lucas Friar. I’m a guy and an ally. I’m dating Riley.” Farkle subtly raised an eyebrow, questioning the validity of the ‘fact’ that everyone knew. But no one said anything, and Riley grinned again, overjoyed that her best friend and boyfriend were finally taking an interest.

 

An awkward silence fell over the room. It didn’t happen often, but sometimes when a new member joined, there were a couple moments like this as everyone tried to acclimatise to the new dynamics. But it generally only happened once or twice and then everyone fell back into a comfortable pattern.

 

Luckily for them, Heather spoke up, starting softly, but growing in confidence.

 

“Okay so, for me it was like- I just… always knew. My mom is bi, and she’s pretty actively involved in the community- she works at a centre for at-risk LGBT+ youth and everything. And, uh, I started insisting from a pretty young age that I wanted to be called Heather, like my aunt. I don’t know, I just thought it was the  _ coolest _ name, I guess. So I started seeing a gender therapist- I’m still seeing her, she’s great- and we came to the conclusion that I was transgender… probably around six? I mean, I’d been dressing as a girl and using the name Heather for longer, but ‘cause it’s still officially a “mental disorder”-” her lip curled in a way that clearly showed what she thought of  _ that _ , and she wasn’t the only one in the room. “They want to be careful before giving any kind of diagnosis.”

She broke off, her mind somewhere else entirely, and Noah gently cleared his throat to bring her back. “So for me, there was no moment of realisation. I grew up with it. It just  _ was _ .” Mila put a hand on her shoulder, and Zay grabbed her hand, and they both smiled at her.

 

“Thank you for telling us that,” Riley said, “that was really brave.”

 

Noah spoke next, confident from the get-go. 

 

“I mean, it wasn’t something I just knew or anything. But I - we” he corrected himself when his sister shot him a mock-offended glance, “have this uncle, who lives in South Africa, right. And he’s gay too. But we didn’t meet him till we were like, six, and before that, it just wasn’t a factor or anything. But then, like two weeks before we’re about to meet him, our dad’s like  _ ‘Son, you do know that Uncle Quentin’s gay, right?’ _ and I didn’t even know what  _ gay  _ meant, so I go  _ ‘Uh, yeah’ _ and just leave it, ‘cause I was six and didn’t care. But then we’re going to pick up Uncle Quentin from the airport, and he gets off the plane with his husband and I stood there in all my six-year-old glory like  _ what _ . And Nikki hisses at me from my left ‘ _ he’s gay, dumbass. That means that he likes boys the way other boys like girls’  _  and something switched on and I was like-  _ that’s me too _ .”

He shrugged. “After that, it was just a thing. Mom and dad weren’t upset or anything, when I told them, and I got my first boyfriend when I was sixteen. It only lasted for two weeks,” he informed them wryly, “but still.”

 

“For me, it was the opposite,” Riley started, looking between Lucas and Maya. She’d told Farkle all of this before, when they were setting up for the first SAGA meeting. “I have a  _ ton _ of LGBTQ+ relatives. Like, my dad’s older brother and his partner explained it all to me when I was pretty young, and his best friend alternated between having boyfriends and girlfriends in all the time I knew him. My other uncle came out as pan last year. But for me, I took forever to figure it out. Until I was…fourteen, I identified as completely straight. An ally of the LGBTQ+ community, but straight nonetheless.” She took a deep breath. “Around that time, I started having a bit of a crush on a couple of girls, but I never really noticed it as anything more than platonic. I just thought that I really admired those girls.” Titters went around the room, and Francesca and Emma and Mila all acknowledged  _ that _ feeling. 

“I only really figured it out this year, actually. I spent more time online, reading about LGBTQ+ stuff and feminist literature and so on, and I actually remember that my uncle had sent me this link to an LGBTQ+ blog, and when the author was describing first figuring out that she had a crush on a girl, but  _ also _ liked guys the same way,  _ that _ was when it finally clicked for me that I was probably bisexual.” She ran a hand through her hair and Maya smiled at her encouragingly, and Farkle knocked her with his shoulder, and all was good. 

 

_ Except _ .

 

“See, I don’t get that though,” Lucas began, and Riley smiled encouragingly. That he was participating made her so  _ happy  _ that she was blinded to his frown, to the way that Zay eyed him cautiously{ _ the south had left certain ideas in their heads, and while neither could be said to be blatantly homophobic, they both had impressions that were definitely wrong. After the first SAGA meeting, Zay had started reading, trying to learn where his education had steered him wrong. He’d forgotten that Lucas might have the same ideas _ }.

 

“Isn’t it selfish-” he began, missing the way Nikki, Thor and Francesca grabbed each other’s hands, all having sat through being called  _ selfish _ before, missing the way Farkle’s face went stony and the way Ashley tensed. Missing how Riley’s smile froze and her eyes stuck on him, silently pleading for… something. Anything. “Isn’t it selfish to like both? Like, I don’t understand it. Does that mean you’re going to cheat on me?”

Riley shook her head softly, beginning an explanation, “It’s not like that. It’s more like… you know how, even though you’re in a relationship, you can still find other girls attractive?” She raised her eyebrows, daring him to deny it, eyes unintentionally flickering over to Maya. “That’s completely normal. So with bisexuals, it’s like that. It’s like, you can find men and women attractive, but you  _ choose _ to be faithful to your partner.” She placed her hand on his and breathed an inaudible sigh of relief when he didn’t pull away. But his frown just deepened.

 

“Riles” she bit her tongue, praying that she wouldn’t snap  _ only Maya and Farkle can call me that _ “I just think it’s a bit unfair. Like, it doesn’t make sense. How can you like girls and boys?” By this point, every eye in the room was riveted on him, and when Farkle tried to speak, he just spoke over his friend, “I thought that this club was something you had to do for like, Shawn and Josh, and yourself, I guess. I just thought that you wanted a place to feel like you weren’t innocent or something, I don’t know. And I wanted to support you in that- I still do,  _ really _ . But I just- Riley, you’re being selfish. How will I ever know that you’re committed to me?”

 

Her left hand clenched into a fist, nails digging into her palm, even as her right hand reached for his. 

 

“Faith, Lucas, and communication. Just like in every relationship.” She lifted his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss to his knuckles, but he shook his head and pulled from her grasp, standing up, “Riley. I love you and support you, but I just.” He glanced wildly around the room, trying to find the right words, “How can I know that you’re mine if you’re here, with people like you, and you might end up liking one of them more than you like me?”

 

Riley was standing too, now, and so were Farkle and Maya and Thor and Noah { _ likely defensive and ready to jump into action. Lucas would never hurt her, but they didn’t know that _ }.

 

“Riley, I don’t care if you’re a lesbian, or whatever, but this-” he flung his hand out wildly, gesturing to the Art Theory room, “- this is just you trying to tear apart our relationship.”

 

Riley flinched back as if burnt, cowering into Farkle’s arms. Hurt shone through the tears in her eyes.  **_How could he_ ** and  **_he’s right, you know he’s right_ ** warred in her mind and she was frozen on the spot, unable to look away, unable to move, kept physically in place by mental struggles. The feeling of  _ wrong _ that preceded her *attacks welled up in her throat but she pushed it back down,  _ not here  _ and  _ not in front of everyone _ stronger than any fear or panic.

  
  


It was Emma who eventually broke the tension in the room, crossing the floor hand-in-hand with her girlfriend and both of them slinging their arms around Riley, leading her out with Farkle by her side.

 

{ _ “You’re a complete idiot, Lucas Friar,” said Francesca when she was sure they were out of earshot, “ You have this amazing, kind, beautiful girlfriend who fought for  _ **_you_ ** _ , and you can’t see what you’re doing to her by saying that shit. Get yourself a fucking brain.” _ }

 

* * *

  
  


They’d walked to Topanga’s, and Emma had ordered her the biggest goddamn milkshake Riley had seen in her life (she  _ worked _ at Topanga’s and didn’t know they served milkshakes that big). She started telling a story about her twelve-year-old self’s boyfriend’s reaction when she’d kissed Mila in a round of spin-the-bottle (a twelve-year-old’s kiss wasn’t much, but she’d definitely broken it off with the boy after that, even though they’d been going out a full six weeks, or  _ forever _ in middle school time).

 

And, somehow, before Riley knew it, it was half past six and the sky was dark, and she’d finished her milkshake and was resting her head on Farkle’s shoulder, tears of laughter streaming down everyone’s faces.

 

_ And a tiny, tiny part of Riley imagined what it would be like if this was a double date, if instead of high fiving him she could lean up and press a kiss to Farkle’s cheek when he made a bad pun. And that tiny, tiny part of Riley loved what it saw, and how it felt. _

 

_ But that tiny, tiny part of Riley’s heart sank when it saw the notification on Farkle’s phone. _

 

**_13 texts from Smackle_ ** 💖🔬

 

_ Because, even in the warmth of Topanga’s even in one of the best moments in her high school career yet, commitments followed them. _

 

_ And even that tiny part of Riley would never betray her friends like that. _

 

_ In spite of all of that, the tiny part of Riley that was sat there by the fire, curled up against Farkle, laughing and happy, stored the memory away as  _ **_what a good date should feel like_ ** _. _

 

* * *

 

**Bonus:**

****

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My sources regarding Heather's story:  
> https://www.wisegeek.com/what-does-a-gender-therapist-do.htm  
> https://www.hrc.org/resources/transgender-children-and-youth-understanding-the-basics
> 
> If you have any corrections to make, please don't hesitate. I want this to be as accurate as possible.


	9. Blood of the Covenant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HOLIDAYS

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been so long, but writer's block struck _hard_. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this chapter very much. If you're curious, I imagine everyone dancing to _La Vie Boheme_ from Rent, but you can choose any other song you want.  
>  Also, if you follow any of my Descendants writing, I've got a new story in the works. It's nearly ready- who knows, you might even get two stories today.
> 
> Whipped Cream & Other Delights,  
> TheHarleyQueen

* * *

##  Part 1: Christmas

* * *

_“We all hate Secret Santa.”_

 

And Riley’s heart just _dropped_. She thought about how long they'd been doing secret Santa- since first grade, when it was more than just her and Maya, from when it was her and Maya and Farkle, and her parents had suggested secret Santa so that none of them (especially Maya) had to spend too much of their allowance.

She muttered a quiet _oh_ and tried to press herself up against the Bay Window wall, hitching her shoulders up and trying to make herself as small as possible. But she swallowed down what she was feeling { _Christmas_ _is for happiness, Christmas is supposed to be the best time to be a Riley_ } and smiled at Maya, saying that they'd just give regular gifts that year, then.

Maya chose that moment to talk about how she was staying at Riley’s house for the holidays, and even though a part of her sang { _Last Christmas, with her grandparents and Shawn and Uncle Josh and Maya, had been one of her best Christmases on record- and also, it was Maya, she'd always want Maya around_ } the rest of her sank, because this was Maya and Maya was supposed to be finally getting the perfect Christmas with Shawn and her mom, and _why_ would she want to change that?

 

So Riley turned to other things, and laughed and smiled, because even though she was struggling, even though she had been an awful person and even though there was something _wrong_ with her, that didn't mean she couldn't still have fun in between those low moments, right?

Eventually, the two of them made their way to the living room, which was filled with the smell of cinnamon and old homemade ornaments. When Maya had arrived, they'd set to making gingerbread cookies, but Riley had gotten antsy and distracted somewhere through and had wandered off, and Maya had followed soon after. But, from the look of the green and red icing on Auggie’s face, her family must have finished them { _her family were used to finishing her attempts at everything from baking to scrapbooking because ditzy Riley just couldn't be bothered to keep track of what she was doing_ }. So she and Maya sat down with a plate of misshapen Christmas trees and Santa hats, and two mugs of hot chocolate. They giggled as they watched The Grinch, and Riley stubbornly _did not_ think about how everyone hated secret Santa.

 

Then Maya mentioned something about Lucas being in Texas for the holidays, and Riley couldn't keep the shock from her face- “He's not in New York?” She asked, frowning. Maya shook her head, smiling in her confusion, “Uh, no. His pops insisted he and his family go back down to the farm- they don't go every weekend anymore, ya know? Didn't he tell you?”

 

Riley bit her lip, shaking her head so hard that her curls went flying, “He didn't even say goodbye.” Tears welled in the corner of her eyes. Sure, she and Lucas were going through a bit of a rough patch, especially after that SAGA meeting, but she'd hoped that they could make up over the holidays- this year, she had _known_ who she was going to be with at midnight on New Year’s. She moved to put down her mug but spilled, the hot chocolate burning her thighs. She started crying earnestly then, only barely managing to flee up to her room, with zero of the grace she tried to exude when she wanted to leave surreptitiously. Maya followed behind her, and they ended up in the Bay Window again, Riley’s head in Maya’s lap, her body shaking with sobs. _It's supposed to be us through everything_.

The stress of the year seemed to bear down on her shoulders like the weight of the world, then. The ski lodge and **The Riley Committee** and her panic attacks and _everything_ came crashing down, and she lay sobbing on Maya’s lap until she lost track of time. She'd fix things with Lucas-  too much history and drama went into beginning this relationship for it to fizzle out like this- but at that moment, she couldn't find the strength in her to even consider what she'd do in the next hour, let alone the next week or month. And Maya just stroked her back and was _there_ for her, just like Riley always knew she would be.

 

* * *

 

Suddenly, it was Christmas Eve, and Riley and Farkle were sitting cross-legged on his floor. The fireplace was crackling and the golden tree they’d decorated together was glimmering softly in the light. A Christmas playlist was playing over the sound system, and Riley was softly humming to _Baby, It’s Cold Outside_. Her hands were jumping around nervously, and her eyes kept flickering to the present she brought. Farkle’s lips pulled up into a half-smile; she’s easy to read.

“We can just open them now if you want,” he told her, and then grinned when she looked at him, aghast.

 

“No, we can’t!” She declared, very intentionally _not_ looking at the gift, “We’re still waiting for Maya!”

 

Farkle ran a hand through his hair and then nodded. Riley pulled out her phone to text Maya again and Farkle went upstairs to talk to his dad. His parents were both home for Christmas, for a change, and they gave all the staff the day off (also for a change).

 

It took him a while to find his dad, although it shouldn’t have. He’d looked in his parents’ bedroom and then his mom’s bedroom and the kitchen and the living room first, but his dad was, as always, in his study. He knocked on the door, and then waited for nearly two minutes before his dad called for him to come in.

He noticed, in the back of his mind, that the fire had probably gone out a couple of hours ago, but that his dad hadn’t even bothered to fix it. The room was freezing, but there was his dad, hunched over, reading a file marked Minkus International. He would have to be quick, then. His dad didn’t like to waste time when new plans were handed to him.

 

“Yes, son?” His dad looked up briefly before returning to his papers. Farkle cleared his throat and steeled his nerves, “Uh, dad. I know that you and mom are both home for Christmas _for a change_ .” He thought his dad wouldn’t hear the last part, but from the look on his face, he definitely had, and he was not impressed, “But I was wondering if I could go over tomorrow for a little while- not the whole day!” He added quickly, seeing his dad opening his mouth to deny his request, “It’s just- I have a gift for Riley, that I _have_ to give to her on Christmas, and I’d rather tell her now that I’ll definitely be coming by than drop by unannounced.” That’s what he’d done last year after his mom had retired to her room, tipsier than on a normal day. He hadn’t even seen Riley that day,  so he had to try again this year. But he could tell his father’s answer from his face before the first word even slipped out.

 

“I- uh- nevermind,” he rushed, but it wasn’t good enough.

 

“Farkle, your mother and I put in a lot of work to ensure that we would _both_ be here for Christmas this year- it’s extremely rude of you to ask to leave the _one_ year that it’s just going to be us. I expect more from you, as a Minkus. The Matthews family will be there every day after Christmas, but both your mother and I lead very busy lives and aren’t around nearly so often.”

 

“ _You’re telling me_ ,” Farkle mumbled under his breath, but his dad caught that too.

 

“Don’t take that tone with me, young man. I work this hard for the greater good, for _your_ greater good, and I have always kept you clothed and fed and safe. That requires sacrifices on my part, and I won’t have you dishonouring that hard work.” Farkle stared at his dad, who just went back to reading his files. Then he gave a brief nod and strode out of the room.

 

When he reached his own room, Riley was just saying goodbye to Maya.

 

“Oh, no, Peaches, don’t worry. We’ll have a great time. _Spend Christmas with your family_. Yeah, yeah. Oh, Farkle’s back, I’ve got to- yes, I love you too, Peaches. I’ve gotta go. Bye!” She hung up, and Farkle could tell, even from the snippet of conversation he caught, that Maya wasn’t coming, but Riley plastered the _biggest_ smile on her face and headed over to the table where they had each put the presents.

 

“Well, I guess we can begin,” she said cheerfully, and although Farkle scanned every line of her face, looking for something that might betray disappointment, he found nothing. Either she was getting better at hiding when she was sad, or she was genuinely pleased that it would just be the two of them.

 

She handed him the biggest box from the table, leaving both their gifts for Maya- a fine silver charm bracelet and a selection of charms (a sun, paintbrush, a record, a coffee cup, and a deer) respectively.

He watched as she tore the wrapping on her gift (covered in tiny, smiling planets) and stopped short at the gift, five frames, each with a “star map” in it. Her birthday, the day they met, this Christmas, the day she and Maya met, and the day she started the SAGA committee. He watched the tears well up in her eyes and beamed as she pulled him into a hug, whispering, “This is perfect, Farkle.” into his ear.

 

Then she motioned towards the large box, and he pulled off the lid to reveal-- a menorah. And all the feelings from Culture Week, the fear of not knowing who he was, the absolute _horror_ he felt when reading about the persecution in this new light, bubbled to the forefront of his mind.

 

He turned to Riley with wide, sad eyes. It was _Riley,_ and she’d have a reason, but the words bubbled to his lips anyway- _“Why would you give me this?”_

 

“Farkle, you found out that your ancestors were Jewish,” she said softly, drawing nearer to him.

 

“Ever since the day after our culture week, when you found out you might have a new ancestry, I started reading about it. Because I love you. And, I would always want to know who you are. Whoever you are.” They were so close now that they could feel each other’s breath, but neither of them drew back.

 

“Did you know in Hebrew, everything goes from right to left? All this time, everything you’ve done, you’ve always thought _left to right_. And, now, maybe consider that there’s another way.”

 

“I love you, Farkle,” she told him, drawing him into another hug. His body softened against hers, and he sank into the hug. They were Riley and Farkle. They knew each other better than anyone else.

 

* * *

 

Farkle woke up on Christmas morning to busy shouting. Well, he said Christmas morning, but he only woke up around one pm, so it was really more like Christmas afternoon. He stumbled out of his room to the image of his mother and father, each pulling a couple suitcases behind them.

 

“What’s going on?” he asked, suddenly very awake.

 

His father turned back, still texting.

 

“Uh, I’ve been called to an emergency conference in Japan. Urgent, you know. Your mother’s coming with- my Christmas present, two weeks in Japan.”

 

“Give me a couple minutes, I’ll pack a bag and come with,” Farkle suggested, but he wasn’t halfway through his sentence before his dad was shaking his head.

 

“No, you stay here. We’ll probably stop by Paris for another week or so afterwards, and you’d be late for school.” It was a weak excuse, but Farkle recognised it for what it was- a dismissal.

 

He nodded quietly and went to get dressed, pressing a kiss to his mother’s cheek in a goodbye. She didn’t notice.

 

He didn’t wait ten minutes after they left before he walked out, leaving a note for the housekeeper. On instinct, he made his way to the Matthew’s residence and climbed up the fire escape, leaning against the wall for a couple of minutes before climbing through Riley’s window.

He’d tried to do this last year, but had bumped into Riley’s dad ( _Mr Matthews in class, but Cory is fine when you’re here, Farkle’_ ) and gone home without further attempts.

 

He brought out the lights and paints that were in his bag- no time like the present.

 

_He’d painted an observatory onto her roof. Planets and stars whenever she looked up. Riley flung herself into his arms, pulling him into the tightest hug he’d ever gotten._

 

_“Thank you, Farkle. Thank you” she whispered, and he smiled into her hair._

 

_“Mind if I come down for dinner?” He’d asked, and she’d shaken her head, smiling widely._

 

_Maybe Christmas really **was** the best time to be a Riley. _

 

* * *

## Part 2: New Years

* * *

Farkle had invited her to a New Year’s Eve party at his place. She would have gone anyway, of course, but she really doesn’t have anything better to do this year- Josh and Maya are at a party with _his_ friends, and Lucas is still in Texas. In fact, he’s only coming back a couple of days before school.

So she agrees and helps host. And it’s _fun_. Zay comes, and so do most of their classmates. Emma, Mila and Heather come. Even Francesca, Nikki and Thor stop by for a couple minutes, wishing all of them a happy new year, before heading to a different party.

 

It’s _nice_. Quiet. _Fun_. There’s no drama, not like it was last year.

 

Then someone suggested that they go to see the Prospect Park fireworks, and she and Farkle shrugged and went along, everyone trooping down into the subway, running from the pouring rain.

 

The fireworks are cancelled, they found out when they reached the park. It’s raining too hard. They ran back to the station, laughing as they splashed through the puddles.

 

Then she was sitting in the subway, soaking wet, next to Farkle and a woman she didn't know. Around her were her stragglers and bedraggled friends and classmates, all drenched and having the time of their lives. New Year's Eve in New York- that's the dream, she's been told. And she did Times Square when she was ten and old enough to stay up to midnight, and she did Prospect Park before that, and she's been to nearly every celebration in the city, but this one, in the subway curled up with her best friend in the whole world, strangers and friends around her all the same, freezing and counting down the minutes- this might be her favourite New York New Years yet.  
The alarm she set on her phone goes off, and it's two minutes to midnight. They're not even going to reach her station before midnight. By the time she gets home, it will be a new year.  
They stop at 9th Street and she's supposed to climb off now, but when Farkle tries to stand up and their friends crowd around the door, she tells them to stop. She hits shuffle on her music and pulls him against her and they're dancing, dancing and she doesn't know what she's doing but she loves it, wouldn't give it up for anything. Her face is thick with the makeup Maya did for her and her lips are chapped, but then he spins her and it doesn't matter. The countdown starts, from somewhere on the other end of the carriage. She joins in, and she's spinning when it strikes midnight, spinning when Farkle brings her in so close that she can feel his breath and her head is still spinning when he pulls her into a short, soft kiss.  
  
They break apart almost instantly, and she's staring at him with wide and his eyes are almost wider than hers, and they both glance around furtively but none of their classmates notice, too caught up in the euphoria of two thousand and fifteen.  
She's panting and sweat glistens on her jaw, and she breaks them apart, saying,  
  
"I have a boyfriend, Farkle, Lucas. Your friend. And you have a... Smackle."

 

There’s something sad in his eyes, but he nods, understanding.

 

“Then it was a platonic kiss, Riley. We do that all the time, don’t we?” She nods, almost imperceptibly. Then she smiles widely and spins again, laughing.

 

They climb off soon after that, and Farkle walks her back home, his arm over her shoulder. They don’t talk about it. It’s 2015,  and Lucas is in Texas, Maya is with Josh at a _college party_ , and Smackle had family obligations. It’s 2015, and it was a _platonic_ kiss, she tells herself. They just both just wanted someone to kiss at midnight. It’s the same as him pressing kisses to her forehead.

 

It’s 2015 and she’s been with Farkle for two New Years in a row.

 

It’s 2015, and she won’t think about how she wants to kiss Farkle again.

 

It’s 2015, and they laugh and talk as they walk back home, putting the kiss out of mind.

 

It’s 2015, Riley and Farkle are best friends.

 

They climb up the fire escape, trying to be quiet but making too much noise anyway, giggling about the entire experience. In her room, she tosses Farkle a couple of pillows and blankets, and he assembles his usual nest on the bay window. She climbs into bed, a smile on her face.

 

_Maybe they’re not perfect, maybe that quick, soft kiss is haunting her as she stares up at her painted ceiling, but she won’t tell anyone that. She has Lucas, he has Smackle, everything is supposed to be perfect._

 

_The next morning, she and Farkle make breakfast for the family (well, Farkle makes breakfast. She makes coffee. It’s safer that way). Her dad smiles and helps out, and her parents ask about their night, and they smile and recount {almost} everything._

 

Bonus:


	10. Teen Idle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> BREAK UP

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it took me, like, a decade and a half to write this chapter, but I really wanted to get it right. And there are so many moments in Sweet Sixteen- I wanted to write all of them, but some of them (the Lucas & Smackle scene, particularly) didn't work in the context of _now we're patriots_. Which is really unfortunate. I wrote a whole scene depicting Riley's reaction to Lucas seemingly hitting on Smackle and then had to delete it.  
>  I hope you like this, though. I do.   
> Also, a shoutout to [insanity_keeps_things_fun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/insanity_keeps_things_fun/pseuds/insanity_keeps_things_fun), who allowed me to consult her.  
> Love,  
> TheHarleyQueen

“Hey baby,” Lucas said when they saw each other after school started up again, “I missed you.” 

 

He kissed her softly, pulling back far too soon (in her opinion). She chased after his lips, pulling him back in for another kiss. She could feel him smiling against her mouth, and she smiled back. When she pulled away, she pressed her forehead against his. 

 

“I missed you too,” she whispered. This was the part of her relationship with Lucas that she loved. She loved when it was them, together, and they were happy. She loved not thinking about their problems. 

 

“I have something for you,” Lucas was smiling as he brought out a small jewellery box and presented it to her. It had one of the store-bought bows hastily placed on top.

 

“I'm sorry I wasn't here for Christmas,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck guiltily. 

 

“I already forgave you,” she reminded him, nudging his shoulder with her own, even as she pulled off the lid. It was cute, a long chain with a dragonfly at the end. When she put it on, the dragonfly lay solidly against her breastbone, and she put her hand on it, running her fingers over the quartz, “It's beautiful, Lucas.”

 

There was a moment of comfortable silence, “Oh!” she exclaimed, rummaging in her bag, “I have something for you too!” She pulled a thin envelope from her bag. Lucas raised his eyebrows, but she just told him to open it. 

 

Inside was an oak leaf, trapped in a thin layer of resin.

 

“It’s us,” she told him, smiling, “Remember? From the ski lodge?” Lucas nodded at her, smiling, and he pulled her in for another kiss.

 

“Alright, break it up, lovebirds,” Maya’s voice echoed down the hall, and  _ everyone _ turned to stare at them. Riley blushed bright pink but stayed where she was, laying her head on Lucas’s chest. 

 

Maya ran down the hall towards them, skidding to a halt inches from where they stood.

 

“So how was Christmas in your home on the plains, Huckleberry?” she asked, trying to achieve a Texan drawl but just sounding like a cartoon character.

 

“Not bad, Pancake,” he shot back, handing her another box. Maya opened it- to reveal a blue quartz crystal on a chain. Riley’s smile froze in place, for a second.  _ But you’re being ridiculous, Riley. Jewellery is a normal gift for girls. This means nothing _ .

 

_ Lucas and Maya are in the past, you and Lucas are in the present. And it’s not going to be the future for a long time. Focus on the present. _

 

* * *

 

“In every life, there are landmarks,” her dad started the lesson, “What are the historical markers of our lives? Most important first.”

 

“Arbor Day,” Maya chimed from behind her.

 

“Cookie day” Zay called from the back of the class. 

 

“No!” Her dad shouted, grin on his face anyway- “Farkle?”

 

“Birth.” 

 

“We’ll go with that- because it’s not what you said,” he jabbed at Maya, who beamed at him anyway.

 

“So, if birth is the most important landmark in our lives, what does that mean? What comes after birth?” 

 

“I win the Nobel Prize,” Smackle interjects, and Riley loves this, this comfortable familiarity that comes with knowing exactly where everyone stands, what everyone is meant to be.

 

“Smackle, we just got born,” her dad chastens, laughing.

 

“I’ll wait,” she shrugs.

 

“Our first birthday,” that was Lucas, and she smiled at him fondly.

 

“So, then, we celebrate our birth every year. What’s next?”

 

“First steps, first words,” Zay listed off in quick succession, “The first day of school.”

 

_ “The day I met Riley and Maya and Smackle and Lucas and Zay," _ Farkle said, and she beamed from her seat. Farkle had always loved school, loved learning, but he loved them more.

 

“So, we get born, we learn to walk and talk. We meet our friends. And then what?” her dad asks, and Riley doesn’t like where this is going anymore.

 

“Then we grow up and we’re not so little anymore,” Lucas says, smiling at her. And Riley understands- being not-so-little is what brought them together

 

“Then we have our various coming-of-age ceremonies,” Farkle says, always the one to know the answer.

 

“Right. And after that?”

 

“College,” Riley half-whispers, “And we all go away.”

 

“Riley seems to have an instinct to accelerate the clock. After all, there’s still a couple of years before that. Why is that, do you think?”

 

“Because I agree with Zay- we  _ are  _ all growing up very fast,” Riley’s hand goes to cover the back of her neck. She  _ doesn’t like thinking about this, and she wants to stop, but she can’t, and now it’s all she can think about _ .

 

“Okay, so there it is, freshmen. You’re all going to be sixteen and seventeen next year. You’re going to thinking about where to go to college-”

 

“Boston University,” Smackle chimes, and Riley doesn’t miss the way Farkle’s eyes widen in surprise, and then fear, and then something else, and how he flips around to stare at his girlfriend.

 

“Okay, so Smackle has her life worked out,” her dad jokes, and then his face becomes more serious, “What about the rest of you? Are you better off letting life surprise you?”

 

_ “Happy Sweet Sixteen, everybody. Your assignment is to tell me what’s going to happen next.” _

 

* * *

 

So, naturally, just when she’d decided to focus on the now, her dad handed out a worksheet titled- no joke- Focus on the Future. Riley’s life ran on irony and hot chocolate.

 

The assignment was hard, and not because it had no parameters (Riley was used to that). The problem was Riley. She didn’t know what she wanted to study (only where- New York). Even though they were only freshmen, all of her friends seemed to be on the right track to carve out real lives for themselves. Lucas was going to be a veterinarian, and Maya wanted to go to art school. Farkle’s path was headed towards Princeton, like his father before him, to a double major in engineering and business. Smackle was going to Boston to study neuroscience.

And Zay- well, Riley wasn’t entirely sure about Zay. He had a lot of plans. Sometimes, he’d say he wanted to go back to Texas after graduation, to run the family ranch. Other times, he claimed he’d study business, or law (“a solid career” he’d say when teachers were in earshot). He’d also talk about Julliard, or Tisch sometimes, talk about ballet, but then he’d back down again, saying that those were dreams, not viable career goals.

 

Riley, well, she had liked many things but had no plans for any of them. She loved space, loved Pluto and Mars and Opportunity and Curiosity and Spirit. At the same time, she loved taking pictures, showing other people what she saw. And she loved clothes (her liberty dress had been her favourite art project of all time).

 

She and her friends were all set to go in different directions, far too soon, and this project made Riley want to curl into a ball and cry. 

 

She didn’t.

 

She didn’t have time to cry, didn’t have time to worry about what the future held, because she barely had time to hold herself together now. 

 

She sat with Zay at lunch. Everyone else was talking enthusiastically about the assignment, but they were quiet. They didn’t have plans, they were the odd ones out.

So she leaned against his shoulder, and held Lucas’s hand, and didn’t think about not seeing Maya every day, didn’t think about how school friendships splintered and cracked when people didn’t see each other every day.

 

And at Topanga’s that evening, when everyone was sitting around with coffee and exam pads, pens at the ready and nothing to write, Riley tried to puzzle through the assignment out loud.

 

“Okay, let’s pretend that we’ve finished our sophomore year, and we’re juniors now. What’s changed?” She looked around at her circle of friends, the people she loved so much, and she was scared. She can’t picture a future where they’re not all sitting in Topanga’s together. She can’t picture a future beyond high school.

 

“I don’t understand what can be calculated by projecting the future,” Farkle said, and Riley agrees, not because it’s unscientific, but because she can’t understand how she’s supposed to create a future yet.

 

“Are you and Maya still best friends?” Lucas asked, and Riley  _ knew  _ the answer to that, without question. It’s  _ Maya _ . Without Maya, she’s not interesting, she’s only half a person. Maya is everything to her. 

 

“Absolutely.” “Of course.”

 

That Maya was as confident in them as she was gave Riley hope, and made her feel a little less like she was on the edge, because even if she couldn't picture anyone else around her, in the future she always had Maya at her side.

 

“Are you and I still together?” He asked, and Riley hesitated for a second, this morning and Texas and the SAGA committee incident running through her head.

 

“...I hope so.”

 

Farkle and Smackle’s unanimous reaction scared her, especially when Smackle started talking about her relationship, because she could see from Farkle’s face that  _ something  _ wa s about to go wrong.

 

“Riley’s confidence in her relationship with Maya is far stronger than her confidence in her relationship with Lucas-”

 

“What can we take from this?” Farkle broke in, trying to save her, and she  _ loved _  him for it, but- “I end up with Lucas.”

 

Riley was the only person who saw how Farkle’s face  _ crumpled _ , eyes wide and mournful; the way he snapped “Isadora!” (it’s not a joke, it’s not cute, Farkle’s hurt, and Riley doesn’t know how to comfort him without drawing attention to it).

 

“Oh, like yelling at me is going to stop the course of destiny,” Riley doesn’t think Smackle means it, knows she actually likes Farkle very much, but Riley wonders how no one else is seeing how sad he is.

 

“Are you not confident in us?” Lucas asks her, and she’s  _ on the spot _ , and she  _ can’t think _ , and so she says exactly what she means, without rewording or rephrasing.

 

“ **No.** ”

 

She sees the muscles in Lucas’s throat working as he swallows, and her hand goes to the necklace he gave her. She’s left with her mouth open, and she can’t  _ breathe,  _ doesn’t know what to say, and there’s tears welling up behind her eyes and she can’t  _ breathe _ \- she knows what’s happening, and she can see that  _ Farkle _ knows what’s happening, but neither of them know how to  _ stop  _ it.

 

“Then why are we together?” Lucas snapped at her.

 

Riley crossed her arms in front of her body and she felt her shoulders hunch over. 

 

“Because I like you, Lucas. And you like me. We’re fifteen, I thought that was good enough.”

 

“Yeah, for now. But if we don’t have hope for more, then what does it matter. You’re saying you expect us to break up, Riley. So why should we bother with dating until then?”

 

Lucas’s cheeks were flushed and he looked like he was going to say something more, but Riley couldn’t let him. 

 

“Lucas, let’s take this outside,” she hissed, gesturing with her head to the coffee shop patrons that were staring at them curiously ( _ my teenage drama isn’t for your amusement _ ). The tears she couldn’t were choking her, a pressure against her throat as she led her boyfriend out to the courtyard.

  
  


“Lucas, I like you. And I  _ want _ to be with you next year this time. But I just… I don’t know. There’s nothing that could tear me and Maya apart, but you and me? What if you decide you like someone else better?”

 

“What if you do?” He shot back, and Riley took a half-step backwards.

 

“I wouldn’t.”

 

“You might. What about those girls from your group? Or Charlie Gardner. Or-  _ fuck _ , Riley, what about Farkle?”

 

Riley was shaking her head now, eyes fixed on a spot above Lucas’s head as she swallowed her tears.

“I can’t  _ believe  _ you, Lucas.” She couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, and her body was trembling, and she  _ didn’t want to win their fight using tears, she didn’t want to win their fight, she  _ **_didn’t want to fight_ ** **.**

 

“ _ Shit _ ,” she heard him swear, and she looked up but couldn’t see anything through the tears, and then she could feel her face in the crook of his neck, his body pressed against hers.

 

“ _ C’mon, Riles, _ ” he was whispering, and she wanted to snap  _ don’t call me Riles _ , but she didn’t, she just leaned into him and let him whisper into her hair, instead of telling him to  _ stop touching her _ and that they  _ were fighting _ .

 

Eventually, when she managed to stop crying for long enough to take a full breath, Lucas pressed a kiss to her forehead and then to her lips. He pulled back and wiped the tears from under her eyes, and smiled at her.

 

“I’m sorry for fighting, baby. I’m sorry. C’mon, let’s get you home.” 

 

She sees Farkle through the window as Lucas leads her away. His face is in his hands and his fingers are woven through his hair.

 

* * *

 

She was lying in bed, curled up under the covers with her phone pressed to her ear, when Farkle told her what had happened after she and Lucas had left. How they’d sat around exchanging awkward glances in silence, before Smackle had brought up Boston, and he’d responded with his dad’s plans for Princeton. 

 

_ “But she’s serious, Riley, and I think we’re going to break up. Not, like, before we go off to college, but soon-” _ he breaks off, and there’s rustling through the phone, and Riley thinks she hears him sniff. 

 

Farkle doesn’t cry, not in front of them. Riley knows that. She’s seen him cry maybe three times, in all the years she’s known him. He cried when he was eight, and broke his wrist trying to climb out of a tree. He cried the first time neither of his parents was home for his birthday. And he cried when he was twelve, and being bullied. And he was crying now, even though he was trying to hide it. She could hear his shaky breath through the receiver, and the soft noises of his sobs.

 She stood up and walked over to the Bay Window. It was the place where all of her most important decisions were made. Where all the most important moments of her life took place. It was only fair that she allowed the most important moments of his life to take place there as well.

“Oh, Farkle,” she sighed, feeling tears clogging up her throat again. She wanted to cry with him, she wanted to cry for him. She pressed her forehead against the cool pane of the window, and let him cry.  _ What else was there to do? _

 

* * *

 

 

Riley hated this project. She hated what it had done to their friend group. She wanted everything to freeze, while they were all still in New York and safe and friends and maybe more, wanted to go back to when Farkle wasn’t hurting and Smackle wasn’t setting off to Boston in a year.

 

“Okay Juniors, how are your lives going, what’s next for you? Smarckle.”

 

“Well, I’ve applied early-decision to princeton, and I’m pretty certain I’m going to get in,” Farkle started.

 

“And I’ve been accepted to Harvard on the Restrictive Early Action programme.” Smackle wanted to be a neurosurgeon, and Harvard had the best neuroscience school in the world.

 

“Are Farkle and Smackle still together next year this time?” Her dad asked, a soft smile on his face. Riley wanted to shake her head at him, to make him  _ stop _ , because she knew what the resolution was, the only option that Farkle and Smackle would take, and it wasn’t something she wanted to hear.

 

“We aren’t together now,” Farkle told her dad, and RIley very carefully did not make eye contact with Smackle, very carefully Did Not think about New Years. 

 

“Oh.”

 

The class was silent for a moment, an awkward tension splitting the air. 

 

“It makes sense,” Smackle told her them, “Farkle and I will still be friends. We tried to forge romantic ties and they didn’t work. We are still similar people. But we have different ambitions, and those romantic ties weren’t strong enough to hold us together in spite of that.”

Farkle was nodding next to her, and Riley could see that, even though they were both upset over their breakup, they both believed they were doing the right thing.

 

They sat down silently, and she and Maya took their place.

  
“We looked at all of the landmarks of our lives, and we found the all have one thing in common. They put us in a world full of people,” Riley began.

 

“And all we have a choice about is the people we want to keep in our lives,” Maya continued, smiling at her. Riley took her hand. She and Maya were forever, and were maybe (probably, hopefully, not) longer than her and Lucas. 

 

“I don’t want us to go anywhere. I want us to stay still-” she said, “Especially us, Lucas. I want us to stay still, for now, and maybe one day move forward. And maybe I’m not confident in us, just yet, but I have hope that i will be.” She smiled at him, warm and hopeful, and felt  _ something  _ burn in her chest when he smiled back.

 

“Life loves us,” Riley told the class ( _ told Lucas, told Maya, told Farkle, told  _ **_herself_ ** ).

 

“Hope isn’t for suckers after all.”

 

* * *

 

As soon as she left the class, Lucas spun her around and caught her in a kiss. She melted into it, into him. For once, she felt like all was forgiven, like they were completely good. 

 

“Hey baby,” Lucas whispered against the shell of her ear.

 

She pressed their foreheads together and smiled. Life loved them.


	11. Wood and Clay will Wash Away, My Fair Lady.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “They made me partner,” her mom continued, reaching over to card her hands through Auggie’s hair, trying to calm him down, “Of the London office.”
> 
> Riley could vaguely hear Auggie telling her dad to ask her mom how she was going to do that from New York, but she was frozen between Maya and Lucas, and her legs were giving out from underneath her. She tried to breathe and found her lungs broken. She wondered if she was having a heart attack.
> 
> And Riley just broke.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to Miss Taylor Swift for inspiring me to write this chapter, and Avengers: Endgame for helping me procrastinate.

She walked through the door, arm-in-arm with Maya, her other hand clasped in her boyfriend’s. And froze, because Augie was crying, and her mom looked terrified, and she ran through the list of people that could be hurt ( _Josh, Uncle Eric, Uncle Shawn, Grandma, Grampa, Grandma Rhiannon, Feeny, Uncle Jon, Ava, Aunt Morgan_ ).

 

“Tell her no, dad!” Augie yelled, and Riley felt her body sag in relief, even as she felt that anxiety close up her throat.

 

‘Tell her no!”

 

“No to what, Auggie?”

 

“Since I joined this firm, I wanted to be partner,” her mother told them, slumped in her chair, “They just made me partner!”

 

“That’s great,” her dad walked over to her mom, pulling her into a deep embrace, “I’m so proud of you, Topanga. I knew you could do it.”

 

“No!” Auggie screamed again, and Riley tensed, waiting for what had sent her little brother into such a frenzy.

 

“They made me partner,” her mom continued, reaching over to card her hands through Auggie’s hair, trying to calm him down, “Of the London office.”

 

Riley could vaguely hear Auggie telling her dad to ask her mom how she was going to do that from New York, but she was frozen between Maya and Lucas, and her legs were giving out from underneath her. She tried to breathe and found her lungs broken. She wondered if she was having a heart attack.

 

And Riley just _broke._

 

She was crying, she knew, and vaguely thought she was screaming too. Screaming for them to stay away, for them to _not touch her_. Lucas was still holding her arm, tighter than ever, and in the back of her mind, she knew that he was the only thing that was keeping her from falling, but she had to get away, had to _run_. She tried to stumble away and barely hit the sofa before collapsing entirely.

 

“She’s having a panic attack,” her mom said, “I used to get them all the time, in high school.” Riley thought she was explaining to Maya and Lucas, and she desperately wanted her to be _here_ , instead, helping Riley.

She wasn’t though, she didn’t care. She cared more about Maya and Lucas than her own daughter. In her blind panic, Riley stood up again, feeling like she was going to faint, and managed to make it to the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind her.

“Riley, let me in,” her mom said, voice soft. Riley shook her head, sending tears flying, even though her mom couldn’t see her.

 

“Riley,” her mom’s voice was sterner this time, and Riley cringed against the door, trying to block out whatever she’d done wrong, “If you don’t open this door, I can’t help you. Come on, baby, open up.”

 

“We _can’t_ , mom, we _can’t go_ ,” she tried to insist, voice thick.

 

“That’s not just your decision, Riley. I’m sorry, love, but it can’t be. This has to be a family decision.”

 

_It didn’t. It wasn’t going to be. It was going to be her mom’s decision, and Topanga Lawrence-Matthews’ decisions were always final. The decision made would be final, and soon, and would change her life no matter what it was. And Riley didn’t want to change._

 

“Please come out, Riley. We’re going to make the right decision, but it has to be done _together_.”

 

_No, it doesn’t._

 

She didn’t say it. She thought about it, even opened her mouth a couple of times to do so, but couldn’t. Because it would fundamentally change their family dynamics, in a way that a panic attack never could. Riley standing up to her mom would change things. So she didn’t. She stood up and went to the sink, washed her face clean and then unlocked the door. Her mom hugged her tight and Riley didn’t know if she needed it or hated it, but she melted into it anyway.

 

She’d refused to talk to her mom about her panic attack. She’d said that it was the first time it had happened, had said that it wouldn’t happen again. Had said it was because of shock. But that night, she’d opened her laptop and typed _panic disorder_ into the search bar.

 

   


> **Panic Disorder | Anxiety and Depression Association of America, ADAA**
> 
> <small><https://adaa.org/understanding-anxiety/panic-disorder></small>
> 
> Panic disorder can interfere a lot with daily life, causing people to miss work, go to many doctor visits, and avoid situations where they fear they might experience a panic attack. The interference is greatest when people also have agoraphobia, as well as panic disorder.
> 
> **Quiz: Do I Have Panic Disorder?**
> 
> <small><https://www.anxiety.org/do-i-have-a-panic-disorder></small>
> 
> Aug 04, 2012 - Take our Do I Have A Panic Disorder Quiz to see if you may be suffering from a panic disorder.
> 
> **Panic Disorder: What It Is and How to Get Help - WebMD**
> 
> <small>[https://www.webmd.com › Anxiety & Panic Disorders › Guide](https://www.webmd.com/anxiety-panic/guide/mental-health-panic-disorder)</small>
> 
> Jun 20, 2013 - Panic attacks often happen at random and can leave you shaken. They're a symptom of panic disorder, a type of anxiety disorder. Here's what…
> 
> She just about slammed the lid shut, although she was careful not to make too much noise. She took a deep breath, in and out, like Farkle had taught her, and slowly opened it again. The results still sat there, glaring and bright on the screen, and there was _no way_ she was ready for what those links led to. She pulled a notebook towards her and tore out a piece of paper.
> 
>  

She scribbled down the second link, folded up the piece of paper, and shoved it into the second drawer of her nightstand. Then she closed the search and cleared her browser history. Maybe Farkle was right, but that didn’t mean she needed help. Her solution wasn’t perfect, but she was handling it fine. For now.

 

* * *

 

She didn’t talk to any of her friends all weekend. Well, she’d texted Farkle the news, and then she’d shut off all her notifications and refused to look at what anyone had to say.

So, when she walked into History on Monday, she could feel their eyes on her.

“Has your mom made a decision on the London job offer yet?” Maya asked, and Riley just barely refrained from rolling her eyes.

“Don't you think you'll hear as soon as I've heard?” She asked.

“I don’t know. I texted you over the weekend and you didn’t respond. Wondered if you’d decided to make it easier on yourself by cutting us all out now.”

“I just needed some time,” Riley insisted, “I was embarrassed. I had a panic attack over nothing, in front of both of you.”

Farkle’s head shot up to look at her, and she shook her head back at him. _Not the time. No, I haven’t told them. Don’t say anything_. He pursed his lips and cocked an eyebrow, but said nothing. And she took what she could get.

“Riley, you didn’t need to be embarrassed,” Lucas tried to tell her, standing up to pull her into a hug, “We love you. We don’t care that you had a panic attack.”

“Do you think we could do this somewhere that _isn’t_ the middle of the History class?” she hissed.

“Everyone here cares for you, Riley,” Lucas told her, and she gritted her teeth in response.

“I _know that_ , but this isn’t the time. I just want to get through the day, okay?”  She pulled away, moving to sit in her chair, but Lucas grabbed her wrist.

“I love you, Riley,” he told her, and he’d said this before, she knew he loved her. But he _didn’t get to do this, didn’t get to use what they had against her_. She pulled her wrist from this grip, moving to sit down, saying nothing.

“We need to face this, Riles. This is the end of Riley and Maya.” Maya tried to insist, but Riley turned to face the front.

“This isn’t happening.”

“Yes it _is_ , Riley,” Farkle insisted, and she refused to look at him, didn’t want the pain and heartache she was feeling to shine through.

“How do you know that?” She asked, still not looking back.

“Look at the board.”

_BELGIUM 1831_

“The Netherlands was a group of friendly states who thought they'd stay together forever-” her dad said, and she kept looking straight ahead, even as Farkle broke in, saying, “Belgium 1831 is us.”

“-until Belgium made the decision it was time to go.” He dad continued as if nothing had happened.

“It was decided that Belgium would no longer be part of the United Kingdom of the Netherlands, but its own independent country. Belgium was free. At that point, Belgium was no longer part of a group, but its own sovereign nation ready to meet the world on its own terms.”

“What if it wasn't ready yet? What if none of us are ready for this?” Maya asked, desperate. “I'm not ready for this, Riley.”

“So, Belgium 1831 is about our freedom?” Riley asks, and her dad smiled sadly in response.

“That was my plan. But sometimes, things happen in life earlier than they're supposed to.”

“So, what do we do?”

“Our best,” her dad said, “Like we’ve always done. We leave our good mark and we hope that people remember us fondly.”

“I did my best. I hope that you remember me fondly.”

“Riley, I know your mother. I know she'll seek out the advice of everyone close to her. I know she'll listen to what we have to say. And I know her decision will be the right one,” her dad told her, and she couldn’t help but ask-

“No matter what it is?”

“ No matter what it is, we go with her.” was the answer, and she nodded, because really, she’d known that all along.

* * *

 

Riley didn’t go home. She didn’t go to Topanga’s, either. She went to Farkle’s. She knew everyone was over at her place- Shawn and Josh and Uncle Eric and her grandparents, and probably as many more people as her mom could fit into one room. It was a good sign, she knew, that her mother was getting advice, but she couldn’t be there for it. So instead, she and Farkle took the subway down to his place, and then curled up on the couch and watched _Into the Woods_. They didn’t talk about it, didn’t talk about anything.

Until, eventually, she passed him her phone, open on the results page of a quiz she’d taken.

   


> **You answered Yes to 5 question(s).**
> 
> _If you answered yes to one or more of these questions, you might have panic disorder or panic symptoms. Panic attacks can be very scary, and it is normal to feel initially concerned about these sensations. Panic disorder affects about 2-3% of people (adults and children) in the United States per year, so you are not alone. The good news is that panic disorder can be successfully treated with Cognitive Behavioral Therapy, which will help you learn how to effectively manage your panic disorder. If you are experiencing any of the above symptoms, and they are negatively interfering with your life, it might be time to seek help._
> 
>  
> 
> _It will be important to begin with a structured psychiatric evaluation by a professional to see if you meet criteria for panic disorder, which will inform your treatment plan. Our mental health impacts many aspects of our lives, such as our physical health and our quality of life, which is why it is so important to address any mental health problems with effective treatments._
> 
>  
> 
> _This material is not a substitute for the advice of a licensed professional. To begin your search for a mental health professional, go to the ADAA’s Therapist Directory._

 

“You can’t tell anyone,” she insisted fiercely, “Farkle, this doesn’t change anything. _Swear to me_.”

“I've loved you since the first grade,” Farkle told her, “I’d do anything for you, Riley.”

“I know. That’s why I’m asking you to do this. Please.”

“I always will, wherever you are,” Farkle continued, as if she hadn’t said anything, “I can’t let anything hurt you, Riley. _Especially_ not you.”

“Everything hurts me, Farkle,” she tried to explain, “This panic thing. London. My relationship with Lucas, sometimes. I just needed to know this, I needed to know how to stop it. But I’m not broken, I don’t need a psychiatrist or meds or whatever else. I just- need some help.”

“And if you go to London?” Farkle shot back, “Who’s going to be helping you then?”

“If I go to London, it doesn’t matter anymore,” she told him.

“It matters to me.”

He pressed a kiss to her forehead, whisper soft, and she closed her eyes against it.

“I love you, Farkle.”

“I love you too.”

“Take me to Mars,” she pleaded, “Take me to Mars so I don’t have to go to London. You, me, Mars. We could do it.”

“Riley,” he whispered, and then she caught his lips in another kiss, even softer than the first.

Their heads rested together, his arms still around her, and he breathed her in.

“I’m sorry!” She exclaimed before he could say anything, “But if this was the end- I had to see-”

“Riley, you and Lucas-”

“Farkle, I _fought_ for me and Lucas. I _love_ Lucas. Maybe one day, I’ll be _in_ love with Lucas. But-” she broke off to swallow.

“But?” Farkle prompted.

“But _Mars_ ,” she shrugged, blinking back tears. Real tears, not panic tears.  “But Mars, Farkle. Lucas will never give me Mars.”

“Neither will I,” he frowned in confusion, “Riley, I’m not a kid anymore. I don’t plan on colonizing Mars for us.”

“But you once did.” Riley explained, “I don’t want the planet, Farkle. I want the promise. And-” she broke off, furiously wiping away the tears that dripped silently over her cheeks, and then changed direction, “I don’t want London.”

“Your mom won’t move if she sees it affects you like this,” Farkle assured her, but she shook her head, “I don’t want her to resent me. I don’t want to resent myself for stopping her.” She sighed, “I’ll see where she takes me.”

“You’ll come back, though?” He asked, “For college. And after that.”

“Yeah,” she nodded. “Nowhere I’d rather be.”

He smiled through his own tears, and they turned but to the movie, credits rolling. They said nothing.

* * *

 

She found Maya later, after she went home, in the Bay Window.

 “Hey.”

“Hey.” 

Riley sat down, and Maya turned to look out the window at the city.

“Shawn’s adopting me.”

“Maya, that’s wonderful!” she declared, genuine happiness for Maya clouding everything else out.

“Yeah.” Maya faced her again, and her eyes were glassy with tears, “Maya Hunter. What do you think?”

“Yeah.” Riley confirmed, “Definitely.”

“Too bad you won’t be here to see it.”

“We don’t know that yet,” Riley tried to tell her, even as more of those treacherous tears started slipping out, “We _don’t_.”

“Your mom will do _great_ in London, Riles,” Maya told her, “She _should_ go.”

“I shouldn’t.”

“I don’t know if we get a choice in that.”

They sat in silence for nearly a minute, each second ticking by,  terribly slow, before Maya broke it again, “Riley?”

“Yeah?”

“Goodbye.”

“ _No._ ” 

* * *

 The whole family met her mom in Topanga’s, sitting in the dark.

“I’ve made my decision,” she said softly, “Please don’t try to talk me out of it.”

“We know better,” her dad responded, sitting next to her and putting  his arm around her, “So?”

“So, there are a lot of exciting reasons to go. A new place, a new adventure, my promotion. There are a whole bunch of reasons to go. But I’ve got one reason to stay. Every time I watch you girls in the bay window, I've remembered how much we wanted a place like it of our own. A place where important decisions are made and the best next steps of your life are planned and considered. We would do great in England. We would do great anywhere in the world. I could run the London office. Maybe someday, I'll get to run the New York office. But the place I love running is this place that we're in right now. Where your friends come in, and you plan the best next steps of your life, like we're doing _right now._ This is my bay window. And I'm not leaving it.”

 “So, New York?” She had to be sure.

Her mom nodded.

“New York.”

* * *

 The rest of the week passed by in a blur of relief. Her dad finished his syllabus on the United Kingdom of the Netherlands, but she hardly heard it. Lucas didn’t let go of her hand, and she didn’t care. Maya caught her in a hug whenever they saw each other, and she barely managed to put her arms in the right place. She felt like she’d used up all of her emotions.

When she’d told Farkle, he’d smiled at her, soft, and nodded, like he already knew. He’d kissed her cheek and gone to his first class.

In the last class of Friday, her dad had written BELGIUM 1831 on the board again.

“So what have you learned?” He asked, looking around. Only Farkle’s hand went up, and he nodded, letting him answer.

“There comes a time when the right thing to do is to leave the friends you know, see what's out there, and face a new world.” Farkle said, his eyes on her.

“Yeah? What do you have to say about that?”

He stood up and walked to the board, erasing what was written.

“Not yet.”

Their eyes met. 

Neither looked away.


End file.
